Chapter II: Part 2

This old adage so sanke and settled in my head, that I thought it a great errour, and extreame mischiefe to the whole realme, either to suffer the yoong king to rule, or the quéene his mother to be a gouernesse ouer him, considering that hir brethren, and hir first children (although they were not extract of high and noble linage) tooke more vpon them, and more exalted themselues, by reason of the quéene, than did the kings brethren, or anie duke in his realme: which in conclusion turned to their confusion. Then I being persuaded with my selfe in this point, thought it necessarie both for the publike and profitable wealth of this realme, and also for mine owne commoditie and emolument, to take part with the duke of Glocester; whom (I assure you) I thought to be as cleane without dissimulation, as tractable without iniurie, as mercifull without crueltie; as now I know him perfectlie to be a dissembler without veritie, a tyrant without pitie, yea & worse than the tyrant Phalaris, destitute of all truth and clemencie.

And so by my meanes, at the first councell holden at London, when he was most suspected of that thing that after happened (as you my lord know well inough) he was made protector and defendor both of the king and of the realme, which authoritie once gotten, & the two children partlie by [2]policie brought vnder his gouernance, he being mooued with that gnawing and couetous serpent desire to reigne, neuer ceassed priuilie to exhort and require, yea and sometimes with minatorie tearmes to persuade me and other lords, as well spirituall as temporall, that he might take vpon him the crowne, till the prince came to the age of foure and twentie yeares, and were able to gouerne the realme, as a ripe and sufficient king.

[2] An vnhappie policie tending to slaughter & bloudshed.

Which thing when he saw me somewhat sticke at, both for the strangenesse of the example (bicause no such president had béene séene) and also bicause we remembred that men once ascended to the highest type of honour and authoritie, will not gladlie descend againe; he then brought in instruments, autentike doctors, proctors, and notaries of the law, with depositions of diuerse witnesses, testifieng king Edwards children to be bastards. Which depositions then I thought to be as true, as now I know them to be feined; and testified by persons with rewards vntrulie suborned. When the said depositions were before vs read and diligentlie heard, he stood vp bareheaded, saieng: Well my lords, euen as I and you (sage and discréet councellors) would that my nephue should haue no wrong; so I preie you doo me nothing but right. For these witnesses & saiengs of famous doctors being true, I am onelie the vndubitate heire to lord Richard Plantagenet duke of Yorke, adiudged to be the verie heire to the crowne of this relme by authoritie of parlement.

Which things so by learned men to vs for a veritie declared, caused me and other to take him for our lawfull and vndoubted prince and souereigne lord. For well we knew that the duke of Clarence sonne, by reason of the atteindor of his father, was disabled to inherit; and also the duke himselfe was named to be a bastard, as I my selfe haue heard spoken, and that vpon great presumptions more times than one: so againe, by my aid and fauour, he of a protector was made a king, and of a subiect made a gouernor. At which time he promised me on his fidelitie (laieng his hand in mine at Bainards castell) that the two yoong princes should liue, and that he would so prouide for them and so mainteine them in honorable estate, that I and all the realme ought and should be content. But his words wanted weight, which is a foule discredit to a prince, to a péere, yea to a priuat and meane common man, as testifieth this sentence:

Dedecus est rebus cum bona verba carent.

[Sidenote: The principall cause why the duke of Buckingham c[=o]nceiued such inward grudge against king Richard.]

For when he was once crowned king, and in full possession of the whole realme, he cast awaie his old conditions as the adder dooth hir skin, verifieng the old prouerbe; Honours change manners, as the parish préest remembreth that he was neuer parish clearke. For when I my selfe sued vnto him for my part of the earle of Herefords lands which his brother king Edward wrongfullie deteined and withheld from me; and also required to haue the office of the high constableship of England, as diuerse of my noble ancestors before this time haue had, and in long descent continued: in this my first sute shewing his good mind toward me; he did not onelie first delaie me, and afterward denaie me, but gaue me such vnkind words, with such tawnts & retawnts, ye in manner checke and checkemate, to the vttermost proofe of my patience: as though I had neuer furthered him, but hindered him; as though I had put him downe, and not set him vp.

Yet all these ingratitudes and vndeserued vnkindnesses I bare closelie, & suffered patientlie, and couertlie remembred, outwardlie dissembling that I inwardlie thought: and so with a painted countenance, I passed the last summer in his last companie, not without manie faire promises, but without anie good déeds. But when I was crediblie informed of the death of the two yoong innocents, his owne naturall nephues contrarie to his faith and promise, to the which (God be my iudge) I neuer agréed, nor condescended; O Lord, how my veines panted, how my bodie trembled, and how my heart inwardlie grudged! insomuch that I so abhorred the sight, and much more the companie of him, that I could no longer abide in his court, except I should be openlie reuenged: the end whereof was doubtfull. And so I feined a cause to depart, and with a merrie countenance and a despitefull heart I tooke my leaue humblie of him (he thinking nothing lesse than that I was displeased) and so returned to Brecknocke to you.

[Sidenote: The imaginations of the duke of Buckingham to depriue K. Richard.]

But in that iournie (as I returned) whither it were by the inspiration of the Holie-ghost, or by melancholious disposition, I had diuerse and sundrie imaginations how to depriue this vnnaturall vncle, and bloudie butcher, from his roiall seat, and princelie dignitie. First I fantised, that if I list to take vpon me the crowne, and imperiall scepter of the realme, now was the time propice and conuenient. For now was the waie made plaine, and the gate opened, and occasion giuen: which now neglected, should peraduenture neuer take such effect and conclusion. For I saw he was disdeined of the lords temporall, abhored and accurssed of the lords spirituall, detested of all gentlemen, and despised of all the communaltie: so that I saw my chance as perfectlie as I saw mine owne image in a glasse, that there was no person (if I had béen gréedie to attempt the enterprise) could nor should haue woone the ring, or got the gole before me. And on this point I rested in imagination secretlie with my selfe two daies at Tewkesburie.

[Sidenote: Note the working of ambition in the duke.]

From thence so iournieng, I mused and thought that it was not best nor conuenient to take vpon me as a conqueror. For then I knew that all men, and especiallie the nobilitie, would with all their power withstand me, both for rescuing of possessions and tenures, as also for subuerting of the whole estate, laws and customes of the realme: such a power hath a conqueror, as you know well inough my lord. But at the last, in all this doubtfull case there sprang a new branch out of my head, which suerlie I thought should haue brought forth faire floures; but the sunne was so hot, that they turned to drie wéeds. For I suddenlie remembred that the lord Edmund duke of Summerset my grandfather, was with king Henrie the sixt in the two and thrée degrées, from Iohn duke of Lancaster lawfullie begotten: so that I thought sure, my mother being eldest daughter to duke Edmund, that I was next heire to king Henrie the sixt of the house of Lancaster.

This title pleased well such as I made priuie of my counsell, but much more it incouraged my foolish desire, and eleuated my ambitious intent; insomuch that I cléerelie iudged, and in mine owne mind was determinatlie resolued, that I was indubitate heire of the house of Lancaster, and therevpon concluded to make my first foundation, and erect my new building. But whether God so ordeined, or by fortune it so chanced, while I was in a maze either to conclude suddenlie on this title, & to set it open amongst the common people, or to kéepe it secret a while, sée the chance: as I rode betwéene Worcester and Bridgenorth, I incountered with the ladie Margaret countesse of Richmond, now wife vnto the lord Stanlie, which is the verie daughter and sole heire to lord Iohn duke of Summerset, my grandfathers elder brother, which was as cleane out of my mind, as though I had neuer séene hir: so that she and hir sonne the earle of Richmond be both bulworke and portcullice betwéene me and the gate, to enter into the maiestie roiall and getting of the crowne.

[Sidenote: The office of a king verie hard to discharge.]

Now when we had communed a little concerning hir sonne, as I shall shew you after, and were departed, shée to our ladie of Worcester, and I to Shrewsburie: I then new changed, and in maner amazed, began to dispute with my selfe, little considering that thus my earnest title was turned to a tittell not so good as Est Amen. Eftsoones I imagined whether were best to take vpon me, by election of the nobilitie and communaltie, which me thought easie to be done, the vsurper king thus being in hatred and abhorred of this whole realme; or to take it by power, which, standeth in fortunes chance, and difficile to be atchiued and brought to passe. Thus tumbling and tossing in the waues of ambiguitie, betwéene the stone and the sacrifice, I considered first, the office, dutie, and paine of a king, which suerlie thinke I that no mortall man can iustlie and trulie obserue, except he be called, elected, and speciallie appointed by God as K. Dauid, and diuerse other haue béene.

But further, I remembred that if I once tooke on me the scepter, and the gouernance of the realme; that of two extreame enimies I was dailie sure, but of one trustie friend (which now a daies be gone a pilgrimage) I was neither assured nor crediblie ascerteined; such is the worlds mutation. For I manifestlie perceiued, that the daughters of king Edward, and their alies and fréends, which be no small number, being both for his sake much beloued, and also for the great iniurie & manifest tyrannie doone to them by the new vsurper, much lamented and pitied, would neuer ceasse to barke if they cannot bite at the one side of me. Semblablie, my coosine the earle of Richmond, his aids and kinsfolks, which be not of little power, will suerlie attempt like a fierce greihound, either to bite or to pearse me on the other side. So that my life and rule should euer hang by a haire, neuer in quiet, but euer in doubt of death, or deposition.

[Sidenote: The dukes resolution not to medle in séeking to obteine the crowne.]

And if the said two linages of Yorke and Lancaster, which so long haue striued for the imperiall diadem, should ioine in one against me, then were I suerlie mated, and the game gotten. Wherefore I haue cléerelie determined, and with my selfe concluded, vtterlie to relinquish all such fantasticall imaginations, concerning the obteining of the crowne. But all such plagues, calamities and troubles, which I feared and suspected might haue chanced on me if I had taken the rule and regiment of this realme, I shall with a reredemaine so make them rebound to our common enimie that calleth himselfe king, that the best stopper that he hath at tenice shall not well stop without a fault.

For (as I told you before) the countesse of Richmond in my returne from the new named king, méeting me in the high waie, praied me first for kindred sake, secondarilie for the loue that I bare to my grandfather duke Humfrie, which was sworne brother to hir father, to mooue the king to be good to hir sonne Henrie earle of Richmond, and to licence him with his fauour to returne againe into England. And if it were his pleasure so to doo, she promised that the earle hir sonne should marrie one of king Edwards daughters, at the appointment of the king, without anie thing to be taken or demanded for the said espousals, but onelie the kings fauour; which request I soone ouerpassed, and gaue hir faire words, and so departed.

But after in my lodging, when I called to memorie with a deliberate studie, and did circumspectlie ponder them, I fullie adiudged, that the Holie-ghost caused hir to mooue a thing (the end whereof she could not consider) both for the securitie of the realme, as also for the preferment of hir child, and the destruction and finall confusion of the common enimie king Richard. Which thing, she neither then thought (I am sure) as I by hir words could make coniecture, nor I my selfe cast not hir desire to be so profitable to the realme as I now doo perceiue. But such a Lord is God, that with a little sparkle he kindleth a great fire, and (to the admiration of the world) of impossibilities he maketh possibilities, of small beginnings mightie increasings, of drops great flouds.

[Sidenote: The duke of Buckingham resolued to helpe to depose king Richard, and to prefer the erle of Richmond to the crowne.]

And so finallie to declare to you the verie conclusion to the which I am both bent and set, my mind is, and my power and pursse shall helpe, that the earle of Richmond, verie heire of the house of Lancaster (in the quarrell of the which linage, both my father and grandfather lost their liues in battell) shall take to wife ladie Elizabeth eldest daughter to king Edward, by the which mariage both the houses of Yorke and Lancaster may be ioined and vnited in one, to the cléere establishment of the title to the crowne of this noble relme. To which conclusion if the mothers of both parts, and especiallie the earle himselfe, and the ladie will agrée: I doubt not but the[3] bragging bore, which with his tuskes raseth euerie mans skin, shall not onelie be brought to confusion (as he hath deserued) but that this empire shall euer be certeine of an vndubitate heire, & then shall all ciuill and intestine warre cease, which so long hath continued to the paring of manie mens crownes, and this realme shall be reduced againe to quietnesse, renowme and glorie.

[3] The duke of Glocester now king.

[Sidenote: The summe of the dukes purpose.]

This inuention of the duke manie men thought after, that it was more imagined for the inward hatred that he bare to king Richard, than for anie fauor that he bare to the earle of Richmond. But of such doubtfull matter it is not best to iudge, for erring too farre from the mind and intent of the author. But what soeuer he intended, this deuise once opened to king Richard was the verie occasion, that he was rounded shorter by the whole head, without attaindor or iudgement. When the duke had said, the bishop which fauoured euer the house of Lancaster, was woonderous ioifull, and much reioised to heare this deuise. For now came the wind about euen as he would haue it, sith all his imagination tended to this effect, to haue king Richard subdued, and to haue the lines of king Edward, and king Henrie the sixt againe raised and aduanced.

[Sidenote: The motion for the coniunction of the two houses of Lancaster & Yorke (deuised by the duke) furthered.]

But lord how he reioised, to thinke how that by this marriage the linages of Yorke and Lancaster should be conioined in one, to the verie stedfastnesse of the publike wealth of this realme. And least the dukes courage should swage, or his mind should againe alter, as it did often before (as you may easilie perceiue by his owne tale) he thought to set vp all the sailes that he had, to the intent that the ship of his pretended purpose might come shortlie to some sure port, and said to the duke: My lord, sith by Gods prouision and your incomparable wisedome and policie, this noble coniunction is first mooued, now is it conuenient, yea and necessarie, to consider what personages, and what fréends we shall first make priuie of this high deuise and politike conclusion: [which is not rashlie & without aduisement to be aduentured, for therin is danger, as the wiseman saith:

Semper habet damnum mentis temerarius ardor.]

By my truth, quoth the duke, we will begin with the ladie Richmond, the earles mother, which knoweth where he is, either in captiuitie, or at large in Britaine. For I heard saie, that the duke of Britaine restored him to libertie, immediatlie after the death of king Edward, by whose means he was restreined. Sith you will begin that waie (said the bishop) I haue an old fréend with the countesse, a man sober, secret, and well witted, called Reginald Braie: whose prudent policie I haue knowne to haue compassed things of great importance, for whome I shall secretlie send, if it be your pleasure; and I doubt not but he will gladlie come and that with a good will. So with a little diligence the bishop wrote a letter to Reginald Braie, requiring him to come to Brecknocke with spéed, for great and vrgent causes touching his mistresse: and no other thing was declared in the letter. So the messenger rode into Lancashire where Braie was with the countesse, and lord Thomas Stanlie hir husband, and deliuered the letter: which when he had read, he tooke it as a signe or presage of some good fortune to come.

Then he (with the messenger) came to the castell of Brecknocke, where the duke and the bishop declared what thing was deuised, both for to set the relme in a quiet stedfastnesse, as also for the high preferment of the earle of Richmond, sonne to his ladie and mistresse: willing hir first to compasse how to obteine the good will of quéene Elizabeth, and also of hir eldest daughter bearing the same name: and after secretlie to send to hir sonne into Britaine, to declare what high honor was prepared for him, if he would sweare to marrie the ladie Elizabeth assoone as he was king, and in roiall possession of the relme. Reginald Braie with a glad heart, forgetting nothing giuen to him in charge, in great hast and with good spéed returned to the countesse his ladie and mistresse.

[Sidenote: Bishop Mortons deuise for to be at his owne libertie in his bishoprike of Elie.]

When Braie was departed, and this great doubtfull vessell once set abroach, the bishop thirsting for nothing more than for libertie: when he saw the duke pleasant and well minded toward him; he told the duke, that if he were in his Ile of Elie, he could make manie fréends to further their enterprise: and if he were there and had but foure daies warning, he little regarded the malice of king Richard, his countrie was so strong. The duke knew well all this to be true, but yet loth he was that the bishop should depart: for he knew well, that as long as the bishop was with him, he was sure of politike aduise, sage counsell, and circumspect procéeding. And so he gaue the bishop faire words, saieng, that he should shortlie depart, and that well accompanied for feare of enimies.

[Sidenote: The bishop of Elie saileth into Flanders to the earle of Richmond.]

The Bishop being as wittie as the duke was wilie, did not tarrie till the dukes companie were assembled, but secretlie disguised, in a night departed (to the dukes great displeasure) and came to his sée of Elie; where he found monie and fréends; and so sailed into Flanders, where he did the earle of Richmond good seruice, and neuer returned againe, till the erle of Richmond (after being king) sent for him, and shortlie promoted him to the sée of Canturburie. Thus the bishop woond himselfe from the duke when he had most néed of his aid, for if he had taried still, the duke had not made so manie blabs of his counsell, nor put so much confidence in the Welshmen, nor yet so temerariouslie set forward (without knowledge of his fréends) as he did, which things were his sudden ouerthrowe (as they that knew it did report) [and might perhaps haue béene auoided by the bishops wisdome for the dukes saftie, as his owne; sith

Qui sapit, ille potest alios sapuisse docere.]

When Reginald Braie had declared his message and priuie instruction to the countesse of Richmond his mistresse, no maruell though she were ioious and glad, both of the good newes, and also for the obteining of such a high fréend in hir sonnes cause as the duke was. Wherefore she willing not to sléepe this matter, but to further it to the vttermost of hir power and abilitie, deuised a means how to breake this matter to quéene Elizabeth then being in sanctuarie at Westminster. And therevpon she, hauing in hir familie at that time (for the preseruation of hir health) a certeine Welshman called Lewes, learned in physicke, which for his grauitie and experience, was well knowne, and much estéemed amongest great estates of the realme, brake hir mind to him.

For with this Lewes she vsed sometime liberallie and familiarlie to talke, and now hauing opportunitie and occasion to expresse hir hart vnto him in this weightie matter, declared that the time was come that hir sonne should be ioined in marriage with ladie Elizabeth, daughter and heire to king Edward; and that king Richard being taken and reputed of all men for the common enimie of the relme, should out of all honor and estate be deiected, and of his crowne and kingdome be cléerelie spoiled and expelled: and required him to go to quéene Elizabeth (with whome in his facultie he was of counsell) not as a messenger, but as one that came fréendlie to visit and consolate hir, and (as time & place should require) to make hir priuie of this deuise; not as a thing concluded, but as a purpose by him imagined.

[Sidenote: Lewes the physician sheweth the quéene the whole conceipt and deuise of the matter.]

This physician did not linger to accomplish hir desire, but with good diligence repaired to the quéene, being still in the sanctuarie at Westminster. And when he saw time propice and conuenient for his purpose, he said vnto hir: Madame, although my imagination be verie simple, and my deuise more foolish; yet for the entire affection that I beare toward you and your children, I am so bold to vtter vnto you a secret and priuie conceit that I haue cast and compassed in my fantasticall braine. When I well remembred and no lesse considered the great losse and damage that you haue susteined, by the death of your noble and louing husband; and the great dolour and sorow that you haue suffered and tollerated, by the cruell murther of your innocent children: I can no lesse doo both of bounden duetie and christian charitie, than dailie to studie, and hourelie imagine, not onelie how to bring your hart to comfort and gladnesse, but also deuise how to reuenge the righteous quarell of you and your children on that bloudie bloudsupper, and cruell tyrant king Richard.

[Sidenote: The coniunction of the two families mooued to the Q. by the physician.]

And first consider, what battell, what manslaughter, what mischéefe hath risen in this realme by the dissention betwéene the two noble houses of Yorke & Lancaster. Which two families (as I haue continued) if they may be ioined in one, I thinke, yea and doubt not, but your line shall be againe restored to the pristinate estate and degrée; to your great ioie and comfort, and to the vtter confusion of your mortall enimie the vsurper king. You know verie well madame, that of the house of Lancaster, the earle of Richmond is next of bloud, who is liuing, and a lustie yoong batcheler, and to the house of Yorke your daughters now are heires. If you could agrée and inuent the meane how to couple your eldest daughter with the yoong earle of Richmond in matrimonie, no doubt but the vsurper of the realme should be shortlie deposed, and your heire againe to hir right restored.

[Sidenote: The quéenes readinesse to set forward this c[=o]clusion.]

When the quéene had heard this friendlie motion (which was as farre from hir thought, as the man that the rude people saie is in the moone) lord how hir spirits reuiued, and how hir heart leapt in hir bodie for ioie and gladnesse! And first giuing laud to Almightie God, as the chiefe authour of hir comfort, secondarilie to maister Lewes, as the deuiser of these good newes & tidings, she instantlie besought him, that as he had béene the first inuenter of so great an enterprise, so now he would not relinquish nor desist to follow the same: requiring him further (bicause he was apperteining to the countesse of Richmond mother to the erle Henrie) that he would with all diligent celeritie resort to hir, then lodging in hir husbands place, within the citie of London: and to declare on the quéenes behalfe to the countesse, that all the friends and fautors of king Edward hir husband, should assist and take part with the earle of Richmond hir sonne, so that he would take a corporall oth after the kingdome obteined, to espouse and take to wife the ladie Elizabeth hir daughter, or else ladie Cicilie, if the eldest daughter were not then liuing.

Maister Lewes with all dexteritie so sped his businesse, that he made and concluded a finall end and determination of this enterprise betwene the two mothers. And bicause he was a physician, and out of all suspicion and misdéeming, he was the common curror and dailie messenger betwéene them, aiding and setting foorth the inuented conspiracie against king Richard. So the ladie Margaret countesse of Richmond, brought into a good hope of the preferment of hir sonne, made Reginald Braie hir most faithfull seruant, chiefe sollicitor and priuie procuror of this conspiracie; giuing him in charge secretly to inuegle and attract such persons of nobilitie to ioine with hir and take hir part, as he knew to be ingenious, faithfull, diligent, and of actiuitie. This Reginald Braie within few daies brought vnto his lure (first of all taking of euerie person a solemne oth to be true and secret) sir Giles Daubneie, sir Iohn Cheinie knight, Richard Gilford, and Thomas Rame esquiers, and diuers other. The countesse of Richmond was not so diligent for hir part, but quéene Elizabeth was as vigilant on the other side, and made friends, and appointed councellors to set forward and aduance hir businesse.

[Sidenote: The countesse of Richmond vttereth the matter to Urswike hir chapleine, swearing him to be secret.]

In the meane season, the countesse of Richmond tooke into hir seruice Christopher Urswike, an honest and wise priest, and (after an oth of him for to be secret taken and sworne) she vttered to him all hir mind and counsell, adhibiting to him the more confidence and truth, that he all his life had fauoured and taken part with king Henrie the sixt, and as a speciall iewell put to hir seruice by sir Lewes hir physician. So the mother, studious for the prosperitie of hir son, appointed this Christopher Urswike to saile into Britaine to the earle of Richmond, and to declare and reueale to him all pacts and agréements betwene hir & the quéene agréed and concluded. But suddenlie she remembring that the duke of Buckingham was one of the first inuentors, and a secret founder of this enterprise, determined to send some personage of more estimation than hir chapleine.

[Sidenote: Hugh C[=o]weie esquire sent ouer to the earle of Richmond, to informe him of his roiall preferment.]

Herevpon she elected for a messenger Hugh Conweie esquier, & sent him into Britaine with a great sum of monie to hir sonne, giuing him in charge, to declare to the earle the great loue and especiall fauor that the most part of the nobilitie of the realme bare toward him, the louing hearts & beneuolent minds which the whole communaltie of their owne frée will frankelie offered, and liberallie exhibited to him, willing and aduising him not to neglect so good an occasion apparantlie offered; but with all spéed and diligence, to addict and settle his mind & full intention how to returne home againe into England, where he was both wished and looked for: giuing him further monition and counsell, to take land and arriuall in the principalitie of Wales, where he should not doubt to find both aid, comfort and friends.

[Sidenote: Tho. Rame sent ouer for the same purpose for feare of interception.]

Richard Gilford, least Hugh Conweie might fortune to be taken, or stopped at Plimmouth, where he intended to take his nauigation, sent out of Kent Thomas Rame with the same instructions: and both made such diligence, and had such wind and weather, the one by land from Calis, and the other by water from Plimmouth, that within lesse than an houre both ariued in the duke of Britains court, and spake with the earle of Richmond, which (from the death of king Edward) went at pleasure and libertie, and to him counted and manifested the cause and effect of their message and ambassage. When the earle had receiued this message (which was the more pleasant, bicause it was vnlooked for) he rendered to Iesu his sauiour, his most humble & heartie thanks, being in firme credence and beléefe, that such things as hée with busie mind and laborious intent had wished & desired, could neuer haue taken anie effect, without the helpe and preferment of almightie God.

[Sidenote: The earle of Richmond maketh the duke of Britaine priuie to the matter.]

And now being put in comfort of his long longing, he did communicate & breake to the duke of Britaine all his secrets, and priuie messages, which were to him declared: aduertising him that he was entered into a sure and stedfast hope, to obteine and get the crowne and kingdome of the realme of England, desiring him both of his good will and friendlie helpe toward the atchiuing of his offered enterprise, promising him when he came to his intended purpose, to render to him againe equall kindnes, and condigne recompense. Although the duke of Britaine before that daie, by Thomas Hutton ambassadour from king Richard, had both by monie and praiers béene solicited and mooued to put againe into safe custodie the earle of Richmond, he neuerthelesse promised faithfullie to aid him: and his promise hée trulie performed.

[Sidenote: Hugh C[=o]wey and Thomas Rame returne into England and deliuer their answer.]

[Sidenote: Preparation to bring in, receiue, & erect the earle to the kingdome.]

Wherevpon the earle with all diligence sent into England againe Hugh Conweie, and Thomas Rame, which should declare his comming shortlie into England: to the intent that all things, which by counsell might be for his purpose prouided, should be spéedilie and diligentlie doone; and that all things doubtfull, should of his friends be prudentlie foreséene, in auoiding all engines or snares which king Richard had or might set in disturbance of his purpose: and he in the meane season would make his abode still in Britaine, till all things necessarie for his iournie were prepared, and brought in a readinesse. In the meane season, the chiefteins of the coniuration in England began togither manie enterprises: some in conuenient fortresses put strong garrisons, some kept armed men priuilie, to the intent that when they should haue knowledge of the earles landing, they would begin to stir vp the war: other did secretlie mooue and solicit the people to rise & make an insurrection: other (amongst whom Iohn Morton bishop of Elie then being in Flanders was chiefe) by priuie letters and cloked messengers did stirre and mooue to this new coniuration, all such which they certeinlie knew to haue a rooted hatred, or to beare cankered malice toward king Richard and his procéedings.

[Sidenote: K. Richards purpose in the case of coniuration against him.]

Although this great enterprise were neuer so priuilie handled, and so secretlie amongst so circumspect persons treated, compassed and conueied; yet knowledge therof came to the eares of king Richard, who with the sudden chance was not a little mooued and astonied. First bicause he had no host readie prepared; secondlie, if he should raise an armie so suddenlie, he knew not where to méet his enimies, or whither to go, or where to tarrie. Wherefore he determined to dissemble the matter as though he knew nothing, till he had assembled his host; and in the meane season either by the rumour of the common people, or by the diligence of his espials to search out all the counsels, determinations, intents, and compasses of his close aduersaries; or else by policie to intercept and take some person of the same coniuration, considering that there is no more secret nor hid espiall, than that which lurketh in dissimulation of knowledge and intelligence, or is hidden in name and shadow of counterfeit humanitie and feined kindnesse. But yet wisedome hath a deuise to auoid & shift off all such deceiuers, as the poet well saieth:

Dissimulatores vitat prudentia vafros.

[Sidenote: The duke of Buckingham conspireth against king Richard.]

And bicause he knew the duke of Buckingham to be the chiefe head and aid of the coniuration, hée thought it most necessarie to plucke him from that part, either by faire promises or open warre. Wherevpon he addressed his louing letters to the duke, full of gentle words, & most friendlie speach; giuing further in charge to the messenger that caried the letter to promise the duke (in his behalfe) golden hilles, and siluer riuers, and with all gentle and pleasant means to persuade and exhort the duke to come to the court. But the duke as wilie as the king, mistrusting the faire flattering words, and the gaie promises to him so suddenlie without any cause offered, knowing the craftie casts of king Richards bow, which in diuerse affaires before time he had séene practised, required the king to pardon him, excusing himselfe that he was so diseased in his stomach, that scant he could either take refection or rest.

[Sidenote: The duke of Buckingham a professed enimie to king Richard.]

King Richard not being content with this excuse would in no wise admit the same; but incontinent directed to the duke other letters, of a more rougher and hautier sort, not without tawnting and biting tearmes, and checking words, commanding him (all excuses set apart) to repaire without anie delaie to his roiall presence. The duke made to the messeng a determinate answer, that he would not come to his mortall enimie, whome he neither loued, nor fauoured: and immediatlie prepared open warre against him, and persuaded all his complices and partakers, that euerie man in his quarter, with all diligence should raise vp people & make a commotion. And by this means almost in one moment Thomas marques Dorset came out of sanctuarie, where since the begining of K. Richards daies he had continued, whose life by the onelie helpe of sir Thomas Louell was preserued from all danger & perill in this troublous world, gathered togither a great band of men in Yorkeshire.

[Sidenote: K. Richards drift in the disposing of his armie.]

Sir Edward Courtneie, and Peter his brother bishop of Excester, raised an other armie in Deuonshire and Cornewall. In Kent Richard Gilford and other gentlemen collected a great companie of souldiers, and openlie began warre. But king Richard, who in the meane time had gotten togither a great strength and puissance, thinking it not most for his part beneficiall, to disperse and diuide his great armie into small branches, and particularlie to persecute anie one of the coniuration by himselfe, determined (all other things being set aside) with his whole puissance to set on the chiefe head, which was the duke of Buckingham. And so remoouing from London, he tooke his iournie towards Salisburie, to the intent that in his iournie he might set on the dukes armie, if he might know him in anie place incamped, or in order of battell arraied.

[Sidenote: The duke of Buckingh[=a]ms power of wild Welshmen (falseharted) doo faile him.]

The king was scarse two daies iournie from Salisburie, when the duke of Buckingham accompanied with a great power of wild Welshmen, whom he (being a man of great courage and sharpe spéech) in maner against their willes had rather thereto inforced and compelled by lordlie and streict commandement, than by liberall wages and gentle demenour, which thing was the verie occasion why they left him desolate, & cowardlie forsooke him. The duke with all his power marched through the forrest of Deane, intending to haue passed the riuer Seuerne at Glocester, & there to haue ioined his armie with the Courtneis, and other westerne men of his confederacie and affinitie. Which if he doone, no doubt but king Richard had béene in great ieopardie, either of priuation of his realme, or losse of his life, or both.

[Sidenote: A sore floud of high water dooing much harme, called the duke of Buckingh[=a]ms great water.]

But sée the chance. Before he could atteine to Seuerne side, by force of continuall raine and moisture, the riuer rose so high that it ouerflowed all the countrie adioining, insomuch that men were drowned in their beds, and houses with the extreame violence were ouerturned, children were caried about the fields swimming in cradels, beasts were drowned on hilles. Which rage of water lasted continuallie ten daies, insomuch that in the countrie adioining they call it to this daie, The great water; or the duke of Buckinghams great water. By this floud the passages were so closed, that neither the duke could come ouer Seuern to his adherents, nor they to him. During the which time, the Welshmen lingring idelie, and without monie, vittels, or wages, suddenlie scattered and departed: and for all the dukes faire promises, threatnings, and inforcement, would in no wise either go further nor abide.

The duke (being thus left almost post alone) was of necessitie compelled to flie, and in flight was with this sudden fortune maruellouslie dismaid: and being vnpurneied what counsell he should take, and what waie he should follow, like a man in despaire, not knowing what to doo, of verie trust & confidence conueied himselfe into the house of Humfreie Banaster his seruant beside Shrewesburie, whome he had tenderlie brought vp, and whome he aboue all men loued, fauoured and trusted; now not doubting but that in his extreame necessitie he should find him faithfull, secret, and trustie, intending there couertlie to lurke, till either he might raise againe a new armie, or else shortlie to saile into Britaine to the earle of Richmond. [But alas (good duke) the meanes (by occasion of Gods prouidence, shaking men out of their shifts of supposed safetie) failed him, and he fell infortunatlie into the hands of the foming bore, that tare him in péeces with his tuskes.]

[Sidenote: The dukes adherents & their powers dispersed.]

Now when it was knowne to his adherents, which were redie to guie battell, that his host was scatred, and had left him almost alone, and was fled, & could not be found; they were suddenlie amazed & striken with sudden feare, that euery man like persons desperate shifted for himselfe & fled. Some went to sanctuarie, and to solitarie places; some fled by sea, whereof the most part within a few daies after arriued safelie in the duchie of Britaine. Among which number were these persons; Peter Courtneie bishop of Excester, and sir Edmund Courtneie his brother, by king Henrie the seuenth after created earle of Deuonshire; Thomas marquesse Dorset, Iohn lord Welles, sir Iohn Bourchier, sir Edward Wooduile, a valiant man in armes, brother to quéene Elizabeth, sir Robert Willoughbie, sir Giles Daubneie, sir Thomas Arundell, sir Iohn Cheinie and his two brethren, sir William Barkelie, sir William Brandon, & Thomas his brother, sir Richard Edgecombe; all these for the most part being knights, Iohn Hallowell, and Edward Poinings, a politike capteine.

[Sidenote: A proclamation for the apprehension of the duke of Buckingh[=a], with large rewards to the apprehendor.]

At this verie season, Iohn Morton bishop of Elie, and Christopher Urswike priest, and an other companie of noble men soiourned in Flanders; and by letters and messengers procured manie enimies against king Richard, which vsing a vigilant eie, and a quicke remembrance, being newlie come to Salisburie, hauing perfect notice and knowledge how the duke was fled, and how his complices intended to passe out of the realme; first he sent men of warre to all the next ports and passages, to kéepe streictlie the sea coast, so that no person should passe outward, nor take land within the realme without their assent and knowledge; secondarilie he made proclamation, that what person could shew and reueale where the duke of Buckingham was, should be highlie rewarded; if he were a bondman, he should be infranchised and set at libertie; if he were of frée bloud, he should haue a generall pardon, and be rewarded with a thousand pounds.

[Sidenote: K. Richard sendeth foorth a nauie to scowre the sea ouer against Britaine.]

Furthermore, bicause he vnderstood by Thomas Hutton, which (as you haue heard) was newlie returned out of Britaine, that Francis duke of Britaine not onelie refused to kéepe the earle of Richmond as a prisoner, at his contemplation, and for his sake; but also that he was readie to aid and succour the said earle, with men, monie and all things necessarie for his transporting into England; he therefore rigged and sent out ships of warre, well furnished and decked with men and artillerie, to scowre and kéepe that part of the sea that lieth ouer against Britaine, to the intent that if the earle of Richmond would aduenture to saile toward England, either he should be taken captiue, or be beaten and driuen from the coast of England. And moreouer, to the intent that euerie coast, waie, passage, and corner, should be diligentlie watched & kept, he set at euerie doubtfull and suspected place men of warre, to séeke, search, and inquire, if anie creature could tell tidings of the duke of Buckingham; or of anie of his confederation, adherents, fautors or partakers.

[Sidenote: Humfreie Banaster seruant vnto the duke of Buckingham betraied his maister.]

[Sidenote: Gods secret iudgements vpon Banaster and his children after the duke was apprehended.]

[Sidenote: The duke of Buckingham beheaded without arreignm[=e]nt or iudgement.]

While this busie search was diligentlie applied and put in execution, Humfreie Banaster (were it more for feare of life and losse of goods, or allured & prouoked by auaricious desire of the thousand pounds) he bewraied his guest and maister to Iohn Mitton then shiriffe of Shropshire; which suddenlie with a strong power of men in harnesse apprehended the duke in a little groue adioining to the mansion of Humfreie Banaster, and in great hast and euill spéed conueied him apparelled in a pilled blacke cloake to the towne of Shrewesburie, where king Richard then kept his houshold. Whether this Banaster bewraried the duke more for feare than couetous, manie men doo doubt: but sure it is, that shortlie after he had betraied the duke his master; his sonne and heire waxed mad, & so died in a bores stie; his eldest daughter of excellent beautie, was suddenlie striken with a foule leprosie; his second sonne maruellouslie deformed of his lims, and made lame; his yoonger sonne in a small puddle was strangled and drowned; and he being of extreame age, arreigned, and found guiltie of a murther, and by his cleargie saued. And as for his thousand pounds, K. Richard gaue him not one farthing, saieng that he which would be vntrue to so good a maister, would be false to all other: howbeit some saie that he had a small office or a farme to stop his mouth withall. The duke being by certeine of the kings councell diligentlie vpon interrogatories examined, what things he knew preiudiciall vnto the kings person, opened and declared franklie and fréelie all the coniuration, without dissembling or glosing; trusting, bicause he had trulie and plainelie reuealed and confessed all things that were of him required, that he should haue licence to speake to the king: which (whether it were to sue for pardon and grace, or whether he being brought to his presence, would haue sticked him with a dagger as men then iudged) he sore desired and required. But when he had confessed the whole fact & conspiracie, vpon All soules daie, without arreigment or iudgement, he was at Salisburie in the open market place, on a new scaffold beheaded and put to death.

This death (as a reward) the duke of Buckingham receiued at the hands of king Richard, whome he before in his affaires, purposes and enterprises had holpen, susteined, and set forward, aboue all Gods forbode. By this all men may easilie perceiue, that he not onelie loseth both his labour, trauell, and industrie (and further staineth and spotteth his line with a perpetuall ignominie and reproch) which in euill and mischiefe assisteth and aideth an euill disposed person, considering for the most part, that he for his fréendlie fauour should receiue some great displeasure or importunate chance. Beside that, God of his iustice in conclusion appointed to him a condigne paine and affliction for his merits and deserts. [Auailable therefore, and for his best aduantage had it béene, to haue followed the wise counsell of him, that willed him, and such as he, to kéepe them from the man that hath power to slaie; so shalt thou doubt (saith he) the feare of death. And if thou come vnto him make no fault, least he take awaie thy life: remember that thou goest in the middest of snares, & that thou walkest vpon the towers of the citie. Which aduise a learned man, in good place, and necessarie seruice about the prince, neatlie comprised in these few verses:

[Sidenote: _Gu. Ha._]

Vtere principibus modicè, nimis esse propinquus
Si cupis, in vitæ multa pericla rues.
Si tua te fortuna facit seruire potenti,
Dispice ne titubes, atque repentè cadas,
Sollicitè vigiles, laquei sunt vndíque fusi,
Turribus in summis es situs, ergo caue.]

[Sidenote: The earle of Richmonds preparation of ships and souldiers to the sea.]

[Sidenote: His ships disparkled by tempest.]

While these things were thus handled and ordered in England, Henrie earle of Richmond prepared an armie of fiue thousand manlie Britons, and fortie well furnished ships. When all things were prepared in a readinesse, and the daie of departing and setting forward was appointed, which was the twelfe daie of the moneth of October, the whole armie went on shipbord, and halsed vp their sailes, and with a prosperous wind tooke the sea. But toward night the wind changed, and the weather turned, and so huge and terrible a tempest so suddenlie arose, that with the verie power and strength of the storme, the ships were disparkled, seuered & separated asunder: some by force were driuen into Normandie, some were compelled to returne againe into Britaine. The ship wherein the earle of Richmond was, associat onelie with one other barke, was all night tossed and turmoiled.

[Sidenote: He séeth all the sea banks furnished with souldiers.]

[Sidenote: He sendeth to know whether they were with him or against him.]

In the morning after, when the rage of the furious tempest was asswaged, and the ire of blustering wind was some deale appeased; about the houre of noone the same daie, the earle approched to the south part of the realme of England, euen at the mouth of the hauen of Pole, in the countie of Dorset, where he might plainelie perceiue all the sea bankes & shores garnished and furnished with men of warre and souldiers, appointed and deputed there to defend his arriuall and landing (as before is mentioned.) Wherefore he gaue streict charge, and sore commandement, that no person should once presume to take land, and go to shore, vntill such time as the whole nauie were assembled and come togither. And while he taried and lingered, he sent out a shipboate toward the land side, to know whether they, which stood there in such a number, and so well furnished in apparell defensiue were his foes and enimies, or else, his fréends and comfortors.

[Sidenote: A forged tale to intrap the earles messengers.]

They that were sent to inquire, were instantlie desired of the men of warre kéeping the coast (which thereof were before instructed & admonished) to descend and take land, affirming that they were appointed by the duke of Buckingham there to await and tarie for the arriuall and landing of the earle of Richmond, and to conduct him safelie into the campe, where the duke not far of laie incamped with a mightie armie, and an host of great strength and power, to the intent that the duke and the earle, ioining in puissances and forces togither, might prosecute and chase king Richard being destitute of men, and in maner desperate, and so by that meanes, and their owne labours, to obteine the end of their enterprise which they had before begun.

[Sidenote: The earle arriueth in Normandie & passeth by land into Britaine againe.]

The earle of Richmond suspecting their flattering request to be but a fraud (as it was in déed) after he perceiued none of his ships to appeare in sight, he weied vp his anchors, halsed vp his sailes, & hauing a prosperous and streinable wind, and a fresh gale sent euen by God to deliuer him from that perill and ieopardie, arriued safe and in all securitie in the duchie of Normandie, where he (to refresh and solace his soldiers and people) tooke his recreation by the space of thrée daies, and cléerelie determined with part of his companie to passe all by land againe into Britaine. And in the meane season he sent ambassadors to the French king, called Charles the eight, which newlie succéeded his father king Lewes the eleuenth, not long before departed to God, requiring of him a safe conduct and licence to passe thorough his countrie of Normandie into Britaine.

[Sidenote: Charles the 8. of France his beneuolence to the earle of Richmond.]

This yoong king, hauing compassion of the misfortune of the earle of Richmond, not onelie gentlie granted and assigned to him a pasport; but also liberallie disbursed to him a great summe of monie for his conduct and expenses necessarie in his long iournie and passage. But the earle trusting in the French kings humanitie, aduentured to send his ships home into Britaine, and to set forward himselfe by land on his iournie, making no great hast till his messengers were returned. Which being with that benefit so comforted, and with hope of prosperous successe so incouraged, marched towards Britaine with all diligence, intending there to consult further with his louers & fréends of his affaires and enterprises. When he was returned againe into Britaine, he was certified by credible information, that the duke of Buckingham had lost his head; and that the marquesse Dorset, and a great number of noble men of England, had a little before inquired and searched for him there, and were now returned to Vannes.

[Sidenote: The earle lamenteth and reioiseth.]