Part 1

THE HISTORIE OF

KING EDWARD THE FIFT,

AND

KING RICHARD THE THIRD vnfinished,

Written by Maister Thomas More then one of the vnder shiriffes of London, about the yeare of our Lord 1513, according to a copie of his owne hand, printed among his other Works.

[Sidenote: 1483.]

King Edward the fourth of that name, after that he had liued fiftie & thrée yeeres, seuen moneths, and six daies, and thereof reigned two and twentie yeares, one moneth, & eight daies, died at Westminster the ninth dale of Aprill, the yeare of our redemption, a thousand foure hundred fourescore and thrée; leauing much faire issue, that is to wit, Edward the prince, a thirtéene yeares of age, Richard duke of Yorke two yeares yoonger; Elizabeth, whose fortune and grace was after to be quéene, wife vnto king Henrie the seuenth, and mother vnto the eight; Cicilie, not so fortunate as faire; Briget, which representing the vertue of hir, whose name she bare, professed and obserued a religious life in Dertford, an house of close nunnes; Anne, that was after honorablie married vnto Thomas, then lord Howard, and after earle of Surrie; and Katharine, which long time tossed in either fortune, sometime in wealth, oft in aduersitie, at the last, if this be the last (for[1] yet she liueth) is by the benignitie of hir nephue king Henrie the eight, in verie prosperous estate, and worthie hir birth and vertue.

[1] She liued at such time as this storie was penned.

[Sidenote: The loue of the people.]

This noble prince deceassed at his palace of Westminster, and with great funerall honor and heauinesse of his people from thence conueied, was interred at Windsor. A king of such gouernance & behauior, in time of peace (for in warre each part must néeds be others enimie) that there was neuer anie prince of this land, atteining the crowne by battell, so heartilie beloued with the substance of the people: nor hée himselfe so speciallie in anie part of his life, as at the time of his death. Which fauour and affection, yet after his deceasse, by the crueltie, mischiefe, and trouble of the tempestuous world that followed, highlie toward him more increased. At such time as he died, the displeasure of those that bare him grudge for king Henrie's sake the sixt, whome he deposed, was well asswaged, & in effect quenched, in that manie of them were dead in more than twentie yeres of his reigne, a great part of a long life: and manie of them in the meane season growne into his fauour, of which he was neuer strange.

[Sidenote: Description of Edward the fourth.]

He was a goodlie personage, and princelie to behold, of heart couragious, politike in counsell, in aduersitie nothing abashed, in prosperitie rather ioifull than proud, peace iust and mercifull, in warre sharpe and fierce, in the field bold and hardie, and nathelesse no further (than wisedome would) aduenturous, whose warres who so well considered, he shall no lesse commend his wisedome where he voided, than his manhood where he vanquished. He was of visage louelie, of bodie mightie, strong, and cleane made: howbeit, in his latter daies with ouer liberall diet somewhat corpulent and boorelie, and nathelesse not vncomelie. He was of youth greatlie giuen to fleshlie wantonnesse: from which health of bodie, in great prosperitie and fortune, without a speciall grace hardlie refraineth, the poet implieng no lesse and saieng:

Mens erit apta capi tunc cùm lætissima rerum. Vt seges in pingui luxuriabit humo.

This fault not greatlie gréeued the people: for neither could anie one mans pleasure stretch and extend to the displeasure of verie manie, and was without violence, and ouer that in his latter daies lessed, and well left. In which time of his latter daies this realme was in quiet and prosperous estate, no feare of outward enimies, no warre in hand, nor none toward, but such as no man looked for. The people toward the prince, not in a constrained feare, but in a willing and louing obedience: among themselues the commons in good peace. The lords, whome hée knew at variance, himselfe in his death bed appeased: he had left all gathering of monie (which is the onelie thing that withdraweth the hearts of English men from the prince) nor anie thing intended he to take in hand, by which he should be driuen therto: for his tribute out of France he had before obteined; and the yeare foregoing his death, he had obteined Berwike.

[Sidenote: Sée before pag. 705.]

And albeit that all the time of his reigne he was with his people, so benigne, courteous, and so familiar, that no part of his vertues was more estéemed: yet the condition in the end of his daies (in which manie princes by a long continued souereigntie decline into a proud port from debonair behauior of their beginning) maruellouslie in him grew and increased: so farre foorth, that in summer (the last that euer hée saw) his highnesse being at Windsor in hunting, sent for the maior & aldermen of London to him for none other errand, but to haue them hunt & be merrie with him, where he made them not so statelie, but so fréendlie and familiar chéere, and sent venison from thence so freelie into the citie, that no one thing in manie daies before gat him either more hearts, or more heartie fauour amongest the common people; which oftentimes more estéeme and take for greater kindnesse a little courtesie, than a great benefit.

So deceassed (as I haue said) this noble king, in that time in which his life was most desired. Whose loue of his people, and their entire affection towards him, had béene to his noble children (hauing in themselues also as manie gifts of nature, as manie princelie vertues, as much goodlie towardnesse as their age could receiue) a maruellous fortresse and sure armor, if diuision and dissention of their fréends had not vnarmed them, and left them destitute, and the execrable desire of souereigntie prouoked him to their destruction: which if either kind or kindnesse had holden place, must néeds haue béene their chéefe defense. For Richard the duke of Glocester, by nature their vncle, by office their protector, to their father beholden, to themselues by oth and allegiance bounden, all the bands broken that bind man and man togither, without anie respect of God or the world, vnnaturallie contriued to beréeue them, not onelie their dignitie, but also their liues.

[Sidenote: Richard duke of Yorke.]

But forsomuch as this dukes demeanor ministreth in effect all the whole matter whereof this booke shall intreat, it is therefore conuenient somewhat to shew you yer we further go, what maner of man this was, that could find in his hart such mischiefe to conceiue. Richard duke of Yorke, a noble man and a mightie, began not by warre, but by law to chalenge the crowne, putting his claime into the parlement, where his cause was either for right or fauor so farre foorth aduanced, that king Henrie his bloud (albeit he had a goodlie prince) vtterlie reiected, the crowne was by authoritie of parlement intailed vnto the duke of Yorke and his issue male in remainder, immediatlie after the death of king Henrie. But the duke not induring so long to tarrie, but intending vnder pretext of dissention and debate arising in the realme, to preuent his time, and to take vpon him the rule in king Henrie his life, was with manie nobles of the realme at Wakefield slaine, leauing thrée sonnes, Edward George, and Richard.

[Sidenote: Edward.]

[Sidenote: George duke of Clarence.]

All thrée as they were great states of birth, so were they great and statelie of stomach, greedie and ambitious of authoritie, and impatient of partners. Edward reuenging his fathers death, depriued king Henrie, and atteined the crowne. George duke of Clarence was a goodlie noble prince, and at all times fortunate, if either his owne ambition had not set him against his brother, or the enuie of his enimies[2] his brother against him. For were it by the quéene and lords of hir bloud, which highlie maligned the kings kinred (as women commonlie not of malice, but of nature hate them whome their husbands loue) or were a proud appetite of the duke himselfe, intending to be king; at the least wise heinous treason was there laid to his charge: and finallie, were hée faultie, were he faultlesse, attainted was he by parlement, and iudged to the death, and therevpon hastilie drowned in a butt of malmesie. Whose death king Edward (albeit he commanded it) when he wist it was doone, pitiouslie bewailed, and sorrowfullie repented.

[2] Had not set.

[Sidenote: The description of Richard the third.]

Richard the third sonne, of whome we now intreat, was in wit and courage equall with either of them, in bodie and prowesse farre vnder them both, litle of stature, ill featured of limmes, crooke backed, his left shoulder much higher than his right, hard fauoured of visage, and such as is in states called warilie, in other men otherwise; he was malicious, wrathfull, enuious, and from afore his birth euer froward. It is for truth reported, that the duchesse his mother had so much adoo in hir trauell, that she could not be deliuered of him vncut; and that he came into the world with the féet forward, as men be borne outward, and (as the fame runneth also) not vntoothed, whether men of hatred report aboue the truth, or else that nature changed hir course in his beginning, which in the course of his life manie things vnnaturallie committed. So that the full confluence of these qualities, with the defects of fauour and amiable proportion, gaue proofe to this rule of physiognomic:

Distortum vultum sequitur distorsio morum.

None euill capteine was he in the warre, as to which his disposition was more méetlie than for peace. Sundrie victories had he, & sometimes ouerthrowes; but neuer on default as for his owne person, either of hardinesse or politike order. Frée was he called of dispense, and somewhat aboue his power liberall: with large gifts he gat him vnstedfast fréendship, for which he was faine to pill and spoile in other places, and got him stedfast hatred. He was close and secret, a déepe dissembler, lowlie of countenance, arrogant of heart, outwardlie companiable where he inwardlie hated, not letting to kisse whome he thought to kill: despitious and cruell, not for euill will alway, but ofter for ambition, and either for the suertie or increase of his estate.

[Sidenote: The death of king Henrie the sixt.]

Friend and fo was much what indifferent, where his aduantage grew, he spared no mans death whose life withstoode his purpose. He slue with his owne hands king Henrie the sixt, being prisoner in the Tower, as men constantlie said, and that without commandement or knowledge of the king, which would vndoubtedlie (if he had intended that thing) haue appointed that butcherlie office to some other, than his owne borne brother. Some wise men also wéene, that his drift courtlie conueied, lacked not in helping foorth his brother of Clarence to his death: which he resisted openlie, howbeit somewhat (as men déemed) more faintlie than he that were hartilie minded to his wealth.

And they that thus déeme, thinke that he long time in king Edwards life forethought to be king; in case that the king his brother (whose life he looked that euill diet should shorten) should happen to deceasse (as in déed he did) while his children were yoong. And they déeme, that for this intent he was glad of his brothers death the duke of Clarence, whose life must néeds haue hindered him so intending, whether the same duke of Clarence had kept him true to his nephue the yoong king, or enterprised to be king himselfe. But of all this point is there no certeintie, and who so diuineth vpon coniectures, maie as well shoot too farre as too short.

Howbeit this haue I by credible information learned, that the selfe night, in which king Edward died, one Mistlebrooke, long yer morning, came in great hast to the house of one Pottier dwelling in Redcrosse-stréet without Creplegate: and when he was with hastie rapping quickelie letten in, he shewed vnto Pottier, that king Edward was departed. "By my truth man" quoth Pottier, "then will my maister the duke of Glocester be king." What cause he had so to thinke, hard it is to saie; whether he being toward him, anie thing knew that he such thing purposed, or otherwise had anie inckeling thereof: for he was not likelie to speake it of nought.

But now to returne to the course of this historie. Were it that the duke of Glocester had of old foreminded this conclusion, or was now at erst therevnto mooued, and put in hope by the occasion of the tender age of the yoong princes, his nephues (as opportunitie & likelihood of spéed putteth a man in courage of that he neuer intended) certeine it is that he contriued their destruction, with the vsurpation of the regall dignitie vpon himselfe. And forsomuch as he well wist and holpe to mainteine a long continued grudge and heart-burning betwéene the quéens kinred and the kings bloud, either partie enuieng others authoritie, he now thought that their diuision should be (as it was in déed) a furtherlie beginning to the pursuit of his intent.

Nay he was resolued, that the same was a sure ground for the foundation of all his building, if he might first (vnder the pretext of reuenging of old displeasure) abuse the anger and ignorance of the tone partie to the destruction of the tother; and then win to his purpose as manie as he could, and those that could not be woone, might be lost yer they looked therfore. For of one thing was he certeine, that if his intent were perceiued, he should soone haue made peace betwéene both the parties with his owne bloud. King Edward in his life, albeit that this dissention betwéene his fréends somewhat irked him: yet in his good health he somewhat the lesse regarded it: bicause he thought whatsoeuer businesse should fall betwéene them, himselfe should alwaie be able to rule both the parties.

But in his last sicknesse, when he perceiued his naturall strength so sore inféebled, that he despaired all recouerie, then he, considering the youth of his children, albeit he nothing lesse mistrusted than that that hapned; yet well foreséeing that manie harmes might grow by their debate, while the youth of his children should lacke discretion of themselues, & good counsell of their fréends, of which either partie should counsell for their owne commoditie, & rather by pleasant aduise to win themselues fauor, than by profitable aduertisement to doo the children good, he called some of them before him that were at variance, and in especiall the lord marquesse Dorset the quéenes sonne by hir first husband.

[Sidenote: Hastings lord chamberleine maligned of the quéene & hir kin.]

So did he also William the lord Hastings a noble man, then lord chamberleine, against whome the quéene speciallie grudged, for the great fauour the king bare him: and also for that she thought him secretlie familiar with the king in wanton companie. Hir kinred also bare him sore, as well for that the king had made him capteine of Calis, which office the lord Riuers, brother to the quéene, claimed of the kings former promise, as for diuerse other great gifts which he receiued, that they looked for. When these lords, with diuerse other of both the parties, were come in presence, the king lifting vp himselfe, and vnderset with pillowes, as it is reported, on this wise said vnto them.

The oration of the king on his death-bed.

My lords, my déere kinsmen and alies, in what plight I lie you sée, and I feele. By which the lesse while I looke to liue with you, the more deepelie am I mooued to care in what case I leaue you, for such as I leaue you, such be my children like to find you. Which if they should (as God forbid) find you at variance, might hap to fall themselues at warre, yer their discretion would serue to set you at peace. Ye sée their youth, of which I reckon the onelie suertie to rest in your concord. For it sufficeth not that all you loue them, if ech of you hate other: if they were men, your faithfulnesse happilie would suffice. But childhood must be mainteined by mens authoritie, and slipper youth vnderpropped with elder counsell, which neither they can haue but ye giue it, nor ye giue it if ye gree not.

For where ech laboureth to breake that the other maketh, and for hatred of ech of others person impugneth ech others counsell, there must it néeds be long yer anie good conclusion go forward. And also while either partie laboureth to be chéefe, flatterie shall haue more place than plaine and faithfull aduise: of which must néeds insue the euill bringing vp of the prince, whose mind in tender youth infect, shall redilie fall to mischéefe and riot, and draw dowue with his noble relme to ruine. But if grace turne him to wisedome: which if God send, then they that by euill meanes before pleased him best, shall after fall furthest out of fauour: so that euer at length euill drifts shall draw to nought, and good plaine waies prosper.

Great variance hath there long béene betwéene you, not alwaie for great causes. Sometimes a thing right well intended, our misconstruction turneth vnto woorse; or a small displeasure doone vs, either our owne affection or euill toongs aggreeueth. But this wot I well, ye neuer had so great cause of hatred, as ye haue of loue. That we be all men, that we be christian men, this shall I leaue for preachers to tell you; and yet I wot néere whether anie preachers words ought more to mooue you, than his that is by & by going to the place that they all preach of.

[Sidenote: The nature of ambition.]

But this shall I desire you to remember, that the one part of you is of my bloud, the other of mine alies; and ech of you with other either of kinred or affinitie; which spirituall kinred of affinitie, if the sacraments of Christs church beare that weight with vs that would God they did, should no lesse mooue vs to charitie, than the respect of fleshlie consanguinitie. Our Lord forbid, that you loue together the woorse, for the selfe cause that you ought to loue the better. And yet that happeneth, and no where find we so deadlie debate, as among them, which by nature and law most ought to agrée togither. Such a pestilent serpent is ambition and desire of vaine glorie and souereigntie, which among states where she once entereth, creepeth foorth so farre, till with diuision and variance she turneth all to mischéefe: first longing to be next vnto the best, afterward equall with the best, & at last chéefe and aboue the best.

Of which immoderate appetite of worship, and thereby of debate and dissention, what losse, what sorow, what trouble hath within these few yeares growne in this realme, I praie God as well forget, as we well remember. Which things if I could as well haue foreseene, as I haue with my more paine than pleasure prooued, by Gods blessed ladie (that was euer his oth) I would neuer haue woone the courtesie of mens knées, with the losse of so manie heads. But sithens things passed can not be gaine called, much ought we the more beware, by what occasion we haue taken so great hurt afore, that we eftsoones fall not in that occasion againe.

Now be those greefs passed, and all is (God be thanked) quiet, and likelie right well to prosper in wealthfull peace vnder your coosins my children, if God send them life and you loue. Of which two things, the lesse losse were they, by whom though God did his pleasure, yet should the realme alwaie find kings, and peraduenture as good kings.

But if you among your selues in a childs reigne fall at debate, manie a good man shall perish, and happilie he too, and ye too, yer this land find peace againe. Wherfore in these last words that euer I looke to speake with you, I exhort you and require you all, for the loue that you haue euer borne to me; for the loue that I haue euer borne vnto you; for the loue that our Lord beareth to vs all; from this time forward (all greefs forgotten) ech of you loue other. Which I verilie trust you will, if ye anie thing earthlie regard, either God or your king, affinitie or kinred, this realme, your owne countrie, or your owne suertie. And therewithall the king no longer induring to sit vp, laid him downe on his right side, his face towards them: and none was there present that could refraine from wéeping.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: A counterfet and pretended reconcilement.]

But the lords recomforting him with as good words as they could, and answering for the time as they thought to stand with his pleasure, there in his presence, as by their words appeared, ech forgaue other, and ioined their hands togither, when (as it after appeared by their déeds) their hearts were farre asunder. As soone as the king was departed, the noble prince his sonne drew toward London, which at the time of his deceasse kept his houshold at Ludlow in Wales, which countrie being farre off from the law and recourse to iustice, was begun to be farre out of good rule, and waxen wild robbers and reauers, walking at libertie vncorrected. And for this occasion the prince was in the life of his father sent thither, to the end that the authoritie of his presence should refraine euill disposed persons from the boldnesse of their former outrages.

[Sidenote: Lord Riuers.]

[Sidenote: The duke of Glocesters solicitations.]

To the gouernance and ordering of this yoong prince at his sending thither, was there appointed sir Anthonie Wooduile lord Riuers, and brother vnto the quéene, a right honourable man, as valiant of hand as politike in counsell. Adioined were there vnto him other of the same partie; and in effect euerie one as he was néerest of kin vnto the quéene, so was he planted next about the prince. That drift by the quéene not vnwiselie deuised, whereby hir bloud might of youth be rooted into the princes fauour, the duke of Glocester turned vnto their destruction; and vpon that ground set the foundation of all his vnhappie building. For whome soeuer he perceiued either at variance with them, or bearing himselfe their fauour, he brake vnto them some by mouth, & some by writing.

Nay, he sent secret messengers saieng, that it neither was reason, nor in anie wise to be suffered, that the yoong king their maister and kinsman, should be in the hands and custodie of his mother's kinred, sequestred in maner from their companie and attendance, of which euerie one ought him as faithfull seruice as they, and manie of them farre more honourable part of kin than his mother's side. Whose bloud (quoth he) sauing the kings pleasure, was full vnméetelie to be matched with his: which now to be as who say remooued from the king, and the lesse noble to be left about him, is (quoth he) neither honourable to his maiestie nor to vs, and also to his grace no suertie, to haue the mightiest of his fréends from him; and vnto vs no little ieopardie, to suffer our well prooued euill willers to grow in ouer-great authoritie with the prince in youth; namelie, which is light of beléefe and soone persuaded.