Part 4

The lord cardinall, perceiuing that the quéene waxed euer the longer the farther off, and also that she began to kindle and chafe, and spake more biting words against the protector, and such as he neither beléeued, and was also loth to heare, he said to hir for a finall conclusion, that he would no longer dispute the matter: but if she were content to deliuer the duke to him, and to the other lords present, he durst laie his owne bodie & soule both in pledge, not onelie for his suertie, but also for his estate. And if she would giue them a resolute answer to the contrarie, he would foorthwith depart therewithall, and shift who so would with this businesse afterwards: for he neuer intended more to mooue hir in that matter, in which she thought that he & all other also (saue hir selfe) lacked either wit or truth: wit, if they were so dull that they could nothing perceiue what the protector intended: truth, if they should procure hir sonne to be deliuered into his hands, in whom they should perceiue toward the child anie euill intended.

The quéene with these words stood a good while in a great studie. And forsomuch as hir séemed the cardinall more readie to depart than some of the remnant, and the protector himselfe readie at hand; so that she verelie thought she could not kéepe him, but that he should incontinentlie be taken thense: and so conueie him elsewhere, neither had she time to serue hir, nor place determined, nor persons appointed, all things vnreadie, this message came on hir so suddenlie, nothing lesse looking for than to haue him fet out of sanctuarie, which she thought to be now beset in such places about, that he could not be conueied out vntaken, and partlie as she thought it might fortune hir feare to be false, so well she wist it was either néedlesse or bootlesse: wherefore if she should néeds go from him, she déemed it best to deliuer him.

[Sidenote: She falleth to a resolution touching hir sonnes deliuerie.]

And ouer that, of the cardinals faith she nothing doubted, nor of some other lords neither, whome she there saw. Which as she feared least they might be deceiued: so was she well assured they would not be corrupted. Then thought she it should yet make them the more warilie to looke to him, and the more circumspectlie to sée to his suertie, if she with hir owne hands betooke him to them of trust. And at the last she tooke the yoong duke by the hand, and said vnto the lords: My lords (quoth she) and all my lords, I neither am so vnwise to mistrust your wits, nor so suspicious to mistrust your truths: of which thing I purpose to make you such a proofe, as if either of both in you, might turne both you and me to great sorow, the realme to much harme, and you to great reproch.

For lo, here is (quoth she) this gentleman, whom I doubt not but I could here kéepe safe, if I would, what euer anie man say: & I doubt not also, but there be some abroad so deadlie enimies vnto my bloud, that if they wist where anie of it laie in their owne bodie, they would let it out. We haue also experience that desire of a kingdome knoweth no kinred. The brother hath béene the brothers bane: and maie the nephues be sure of their vncle? Ech of these children is the others defense while they be asunder, and ech of their liues lieth in the others bodie. Kéepe one safe and both be sure, and nothing for them both more perillous, than to be both in one place. For what wise merchant aduentureth all his goods in one ship?

All this notwithstanding, here I deliuer him and his brother in him, to kéepe, into your hands, of whom I shall aske them both afore God & the world. Faithfull ye be that wot I well, & I know well you be wise. Power and strength to kéepe him (if you list) lacke ye not of your selfe, nor can lacke helpe in this cause. And if ye can not elsewhere, then maie you leaue him here. But onelie one thing I beséech you, for the trust which his father put in you euer, & for the trust that I put in you now, that as farre as ye thinke that I feare too much, be you well ware that you feare not as farre too little. And therewithall she said vnto the child: Fare well mine owne sweete sonne, God send you good kéeping: let me kisse you yet once yer you go, for God knoweth when we shall kisse togither againe. And therewith she kissed him and blessed him, turned hir backe and wept and went hir waie, leauing the child wéeping as fast. [Howbeit she was sorie afterwards that she had so parted from hir son (when it was past hir power to procure remedie, & no hope of helpe left against afterclaps) which is the common case of all that kind, as the prouerbe saith:

Femineus verè dolor est post facta dolere.]

[Sidenote: O dissimulation.]

[Sidenote: This that is here betwéene this marke (*) & this marke (*) was not written by him in English but is translated out of his historie which he wrote in Latine.]

When the lord cardinall, and these other lords with him, had receiued this yoong duke, they brought him into the Star-chamber, where the protector tooke him in his armes and kissed him with these words: Now welcome my lord euen with all my verie heart. And he said in that of likelihood as he thought. Therevpon foorthwith they brought him vnto the king his brother into the bishops palace at Paules, and from thense thorough the citie honourablie into the Tower, out of the which after that daie they neuer came abroad. (*) When the protector had both the children in his hands, he opened himselfe more boldlie, both to certeine other men, and also cheeflie to the duke of Buckingham. Although I know that manie thought that this duke was priuie to all the protectors counsell, euen from the beginning; and some of the protectors fréends said, that the duke was the first moouer of the protector to this matter, sending a priuie messenger vnto him, streict after king Edwards death.

But others againe, which knew better the subtill wit of the protector, denie that he euer opened his enterprise to the duke, vntill he had brought to passe the things before rehearsed. But when he had imprisoned the quéenes kinsfolks, & gotten both his sonnes into his owne hands, then he opened the rest of his purpose with lesse feare to them whome he thought méet for the matter, and speciallie to the duke, who being woone to his purpose, he thought his strength more than halfe increased. The matter was broken vnto the duke by subtill folks, and such as were their craftes-masters in the handling of such wicked deuises: who declared vnto him that the yoong king was offended with him for his kinsfolks sake, and if he were euer able he would reuenge them, who would pricke him forward therevnto if they escaped (for they would remember their imprisonment) or else it they were put to death, without doubt the yoong K. would be carefull for their deaths, whose imprisonment was gréeuous vnto him.

Also that with repenting the duke should nothing auaile, for there was no waie left to redéeme his offense by benefits, but he should sooner destroie himselfe than saue the king, who with his brother and his kinsfolks he saw in such places imprisoned, as the protector might with a becke destroie them all: and that it were no doubt but he would doo it in déed, if there were anie new enterprise attempted. And that it was likelie, that as the protector had prouided priuie gard for himselfe, so had he spials for the duke, and traines to catch him, if he should be against him; and that peraduenture from them, whome he lest suspected. For the state of things and the dispositions of men were then such, that a man could not well tell whome he might trust, or whom he might feare.

[Sidenote: The dukes full resolution, to go thorough with his enterprise.]

These things and such like, being beaten into the dukes mind, brought him to that point, that where he had repented the way that he had entered; yet would he go foorth in the same; and sith he had once begun, he would stoutlie go thorough. And therefore to this wicked enterprise, which he beléeued could not be voided, he bent himselfe, and went through; and determined, that sith the common mischéefe could not be amended, he would turne it as much as he might to his owne commoditie. Then it was agréed, that the protector shuld haue the dukes aid to make him king, and that the protectors onelie lawfull sonne should marrie the dukes daughter, and that the protector should grant him the quiet possession of the earldome of Hereford, which he claimed as his inheritance, and could neuer obteine it in king Edwards time.

Besides these requests of the duke, the protector of his owne mind promised him a great quantitie of the kings treasure, and of his houshold stuffe. And when they were thus at a point betwéene themselues, they went about to prepare for the coronation of the yoong king, as they would haue it séeme. And that they might turne both the eies and minds of men from perceiuing of their drifts other-where, the lords being sent for from all parts of the realme, came thicke to that solemnitie. But the protector and the duke, after that they had sent the lord cardinall, the archbishop of Yorke then lord chancellor, the bishop of Elie, the lord Stanleie, and the lord Hastings then lord chamberlaine, with manie other noble men (*) to common & deuise about the coronation in one place, as fast were they in an other place, contriuing the contrarie, and to make the protector king.

To which councell albeit there were adhibited verie few, and they were secret: yet began there here and there abouts, some maner of muttering among the people, as though all should not long be well, though they neither wist what they feared, nor wherefore: were it, that before such great things, mens hearts of a secret instinct of nature misgiue them; as the sea without wind swelleth of himselfe sometime before a tempest: or were it that some one man, happilie somewhat perceiuing, filled manie men with suspicion, though he shewed few men what he knew. Howbeit somewhat the dealing it selfe made men to muse on the matter, though the councell were close. For by little and little all folke withdrew from the Tower, and drew vnto Crosbies in Bishops gates stréet, where the protector kept his houshold. The protector had the resort, the king in maner desolate.

While some for their businesse made sute to them that had the dooing, some were by their fréends secretlie warned, that it might happilie turne them to no good, to be too much attendant about the king without the protectors appointment, which remooued also diuerse of the princes old seruants from him, and set new about him. Thus manie things comming togither, partlie by chance, partlie of purpose, caused at length not common people onelie, that woond with the wind, but wise men also, and some lords eke to marke the matter and muse thereon; so farre foorth that the lord Stanleie that was after earle of Derbie, wiselie mistrusted it, and said vnto the lord Hastings, that he much misliked these two seuerall counccels. For while we (quoth he) talke of one matter in the tone place, little wot we wherof they talke in the tother place.

[Sidenote: Catesbie and his conditions described.]

My lord (quoth the lord Hastings) on my life neuer doubt you: for while one man is there, which is neuer thense, neuer can there be thing once mooued, that should sound amisse toward me, but it should be in mine eares yer it were well out of their mouths. This ment he by Catesbie, which was of his néere secret councell, and whome he verie familiarlie vsed, and in his most weightie matters put no man in so speciall trust, reckoning himselfe to no man so liefe, sith he well wist there was no man so much to him beholden as was this Catesbie, which was a man well learned in the lawes of this land, and by the speciall fauour of the lord chamberlaine, in good authoritie, and much rule bare in all the countie of Leicester, where the lord chamberlains power cheeflie laie.

But suerlie great pitie was it, that he had not had either more truth, or lesse wit. For his dissimulation onelie kept all that mischéefe vp. In whome if the lord Hastings had not put so speciall trust, the lord Stanleie & he had departed with diuerse other lords, and broken all the danse, for manie ill signs that he saw, which he now construes all to the best. So suerlie thought he, that there could be none harme toward him in that councell intended, where Catesbie was. And of truth the protector and the duke of Buckingham made verie good semblance vnto the lord Hastings, and kept him much in companie. And vndoubtedlie the protector loued him well, and loth was to haue lost him, sauing for feare least his life should haue quailed their purpose.

For which cause he mooued Catesbie to prooue with some words cast out a farre off, whether he could thinke it possible to win the lord Hastings vnto their part. But Catesbie, whether he assaied him, or assaied him not, reported vnto them, that he found him so fast, and heard him speake so terrible words, that he durst no further breake. And of truth, the lord chamberlaine of verie trust shewed vnto Catesbie the distrust that others began to haue in the matter. And therefore he, fearing least their motion might with the lord Hastings minish his credence, wherevnto onelie all the matter leaned, procured the protector hastilie to rid him. And much the rather, for that he trusted by his death to obteine much of the rule that the lord Hastings bare in his countrie: the onelie desire whereof was the allectiue that induced him to be partner, and one speciall contriuer of all this horrible treason.

[Sidenote: An assemblie of lords in the Tower.]

Wherevpon soone after, that is to wit, on the fridaie [being the thirtéenth of Iune] manie lords assembled in the Tower, and there sat in councell, deuising the honourable solemnitie of the kings coronation, of which the time appointed then so néere approched, that the pageants and subtilties were in making daie & night at Westminster, and much vittels killed therfore, that afterward was cast awaie. These lords so sitting togither communing of this matter, the protector came in amongst them, first about nine of the clocke, saluting them courteouslie, and excusing himselfe that he had béene from them so long, saieng merilie that he had béene a sléeper that daie.

[Sidenote: The behauior of the lord protector in the assemblie of the lords.]

After a little talking with them, he said vnto the bishop of Elie; My lord you haue verie good strawberies at your garden in Holborne, I require you let vs haue a messe of them. Gladlie my lord (quoth he) would God I had some better thing as readie to your pleasure as that! And therewithall in all the hast he sent his seruant for a messe of strawberies. The protector set the lords fast in communing, and therevpon praieng them to spare him for a little while, departed thense. And soone after one houre, betwéene ten & eleuen he returned into the chamber amongst them all, changed with a woonderfull soure angrie countenance, knitting the browes, frowning and fretting, and gnawing on his lips: and so sat him downe in his place.

All the lords were much dismaid and sore maruelled at this maner of sudden change, and what thing should him aile. Then, when he had sitten still a while, thus he began: What were they worthie to haue that compasse and imagine the destruction of me, being so néere of bloud vnto the king, and protector of his roiall person and his realme? At this question, all the lords sat sore astonied, musing much by whome this question should be meant, of which euerie man wist himselfe cléere. Then the lord chamberlaine (as he that for the loue betwéene them thought he might be boldest with him) answered and said, that they were worthie to be punished as heinous traitors, whatsoeuer they were. And all the other affirmed the same. That is (quoth he) yonder sorceresse my brothers wife, and other with hir (meaning the quéene.)

At these words manie of the other lords were greatlie abashed, that fauoured hir. But the lord Hastings was in his mind better content, that it was mooued by hir, than by anie other whome he loued better: albeit his heart somewhat grudged, that he was not afore made of counsell in this matter, as he was of the taking of hir kinred, and of their putting to death, which were by his assent before deuised to be beheaded at Pomfret this selfe same daie, in which he was not ware that it was by other deuised, that he himselfe should be beheaded the same daie at London. Then said the protector: Ye shall all sée in what wise that sorceresse, and that other witch of hir counsell Shores wife, with their affinitie, haue by their sorcerie and witchcraft wasted my bodie. And therwith he plucked vp his dublet sléeue to his elbow vpon his left arme, where he shewed a weerish withered arme, and small; as it was neuer other.

Herevpon euerie mans mind sore misgaue them, well perceiuing that this matter was but a quarrell. For they well wist that the quéene was too wise to go about anie such follie. And also if she would, yet would she of all folke least, make Shores wife of hir counsell, whome of all women she most hated, as that concubine whome the king hir husband had most loued. And also, no man was there present, but well knew that his arme was euer such since his birth. Nathelesse, the lord chamberlaine (which from the death of king Edward kept Shores wife, on whome he somewhat doted in the kings life, sauing (as it is said) he that while forbare hir of reuerence toward the king, else of a certeine kind of fidelitie to his fréend) answered and said: Certeinelie my lord, if they haue so heinouslie doone, they be worthie heinous punishment.

[Sidenote: The lord Stanleie wounded.]

What (quoth the protector) thou seruest me I wéene with ifs and with ands, I tell thée they haue so doone, and that I will make good on thy bodie traitor: and therewith as in a great anger, he clapped his fist vpon the boord a great rap. At which token one cried, Treason, without the chamber. Therewith a doore clapped, and in come there rushing men in harnesse, as manie as the chamber might hold. And anon the protector said to the lord Hastings: I arrest thée traitor: What me my lord? (quoth he.) Yea thée traitor quoth the protector. And an other let flie at the lord Stanleie, which shrunke at the stroke, & fell vnder the table, or else his head had béene cleft to the téeth: for as shortlie as he shranke, yet ran the bloud about his eares.

[Sidenote: Lord Hastings lord chamberleine beheaded.]

Then were they all quickelie bestowed in diuerse chambers, except the lord chamberleine, whome the protector bad spéed and shriue him apace, for by saint Paule (quoth he) I will not to dinner till I sée thy head off. It booted him not to aske whie, but heauilie tooke a priest at aduenture, & made a short shrift: for a longer would not be suffered, the protector made so much hast to dinner, which he might not go to, vntill this were doone, for sauing of his oth. So was he brought foorth to the gréene beside the chappell within the Tower, and his head laid downe vpon a long log of timber, and there striken off, and afterward his bodie with the head interred at Windsor beside the bodie of king Edward, both whose soules our Lord pardon. [Thus began he to establish his kingdome in bloud, growing thereby in hatred of the nobles, and also abridging both the line of his life, and the time of his regiment: for God will not haue bloudthirstie tyrants daies prolonged, but will cut them off in their ruffe; according to Dauids words:

[Sidenote: _Buchan. in psal. 55._]

Impio, fallaci, auidoque cædis Fila mors rumpet viridi in iuuenta.]

[Sidenote: The lord Stanleie's dreame.]

A maruellous case is it to heare either the warnings of that he should haue voided, or the tokens of that he could not void. For the selfe night next before his death, the lord Stanleie sent a trustie messenger vnto him at midnight in all the hast, requiring him to rise and ride awaie with him, for he was disposed vtterlie no longer to bide, he had so fearfull a dreame; in which him thought that a boare with his tuskes so rased them both by the heads, that the bloud ran about both their shoulders. And forsomuch as the protector gaue the boare for his cognisance, this dreame made so fearfull an impression in his heart, that he was throughlie determined no longer to tarrie, but had his horsse readie, if the lord Hastings would go with him, to ride yet so farre the same night, that they should be out of danger yer daie.

Ha good Lord (quoth the lord Hastings to this messenger) leaneth my lord thy maister so much to such trifles, and hath such faith in dreames, which either his owne feare fantasieth, or doo rise in the nights rest by reason of his daies thought? Tell him it is plaine witchcraft to beléeue in such dreames, which if they were tokens of things to come, why thinketh he not that we might be as likelie to make them true by our going, if we were caught & brought backe, as fréends faile fliers; for then had the boare a cause likelie to rase vs with his tusks, as folke that fled for some falsehood. Wherefore, either is there perill, or none there is in déed: or if anie be, it is rather in going than biding. And in case we should néeds fall in perill one waie or other, yet had I rather that men should sée that it were by other mens falsehood, than thinke it were either by our owne fault, or faint heart. And therefore go to thy maister (man) and commend me to him, & praie him be merrie & haue no feare: for I insure him I am as sure of the man that he woteth of, as I am of mine owne hand. God send grace sir (quoth the messenger) and went his waie.

[Sidenote: Foretokens of imminent misfortune to the lord Hastings.]

Certeine is it also, that in riding towards the Tower, the same morning in which he was beheaded, his horsse twise or thrise stumbled with him, almost to the falling. Which thing albeit ech man wote well dailie happeneth to them, to whom no such mischance is toward; yet hath it béene of an old rite and custome obserued, as a token oftentimes notablie foregoing some great misfortune. Now this that followeth was no warning, but an enuious scorne. The same morning yer he was vp, came a knight vnto him, as it were of courtesie, to accompanie him to the councell; but of truth sent by the protector to hast him thitherwards, with whome he was of secret confederacie in that purpose; a meane man at that time and now of great authoritie.

This knight (I say) when it happened the lord chamberleine by the waie to staie his horsse, & common a while with a priest whome he met in the Tower stréet, brake his tale, and said merilie to him; What my lord, I pray you come on, whereto talke you so long with that priest? you haue no néed of a priest yet: and therwith he laughed vpon him, as though he would say, Ye shall haue soone. But so little wist the tother what he ment, and so little mistrusted, that he was neuer merrier, nor neuer so full of good hope in his life, which selfe thing is oft séene a signe of change. But I shall rather let anie thing passe me, than the vaine suertie of mans mind so néere his death [flattering himselfe with deceitfull conceipts of inward motions of life to be prolonged, euen in present cases of deadlie danger, and heauie misfortunes offering great mistrust; as he did that is noted for speaking like a foole:

[Sidenote: _Mani. lib. 4. Astro._]

Non est (crede mihi) sapientis dicere, Viuam: Nascentes morimur, finísq; ab origine pendet.]