Bacon•HISTORIA REGNI HENRICI SEPTIMI REGIS ANGLIAE
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VI. SUB hoc tempus rex rursus spiritibus malignis obsideri et infestari coepit, per magicam scilicet et artes curiosas ducissae Margaretae, quae ab inferis evocavit umbram Richardi ducis Eboraci, filii secundogeniti Edwardi Quarti, ut obambularet et regem vexaret. Gemma ista (licet adulterina) spendidiory tamen erat, oculosque fulgore magis perstringebat, et in digitis principum maiorum gestata est quam Lambertus Simnellus, quippe quam non solum ducissa Burgudiae, sed et rex Galliae, etiam et rex Scotiae in pretio habuerunt. In Simnello certe parum erat, nisi quod puer erat venustus, quemque vestimenta sua regalia non dedecerent.
6. About this time the king again began to be besieged and harassed by malign spirits, namely by the magic and curious arts of Duchess Margaret, who from the underworld evoked the shade of Richard, Duke of York, the second-born son of Edward IV, to walk about and vex the king. This gem (though adulterine) was nevertheless more splendid, and dazzled the eyes more with its lustre, and it was borne on the fingers of princes of higher rank than Lambert Simnel; for not only the Duchess of Burgundy, but also the king of France and even the king of Scotland held it in esteem. In Simnel, to be sure, there was little, save that he was a comely boy, and his royal garments did not misbecome him.
But that adolescent (of whom we have now begun to speak) was so crafty and, as it were, mercurial that you would scarcely find his like; and he was such a one that, if perchance upon the stage he had fallen out of his parts, he could promptly supply them by his own acumen. And so, since among the examples of pseudo-princes which have existed either in recent or in ancient times this very case stands out, it surely deserves a fuller and more accurate narration, although the king’s inveterate custom of showing matters through obscure light and in torn and scattered parts has wrapped this affair in so great a darkness that down to the present day it bears itself almost in the likeness of a mystery.
2. Ducissa Margareta (quam regis amici Iunonem appellabant, quia talis erat versus eum qualis fuit Iuno versus Aeneam, superos et Acheronta movendo in perniciem eus) loco basis machinarum suarum quas contra regem extruebat perpetuo omnibus viis et modis alebat, confirmabat, et spargebat, famam volitantem nimirum Richardum ducem Eboraci, filium secundogenitum Edwardi Quarti, minime fuisset in turre Londonensi (prout ferebatur) necatum, sed vivum emissum quoniam carnifices illi, qui operam suam praestiterunt ad barbarum illud facinus, postquam primogenitum trucidatum vidissent horrore et misericordia perculsi Richardum istum clam emiserunt sortem suam experturum. Hanc escam et illecebram undique proiecit, credens huius rei famam et fidem (una cum recente exemplo Lamberti Simnelli) aliquas volucres forte aliquando tracturam, quae eam captarent. Alia quoque diligentia usa est, non omnia casui permittendo.
2. Duchess Margaret (whom the king’s friends called Juno, because she was toward him such as Juno was toward Aeneas, moving the gods above and Acheron to his ruin) as the very base of the engines she was building against the king, continually by every road and method nourished, confirmed, and broadcast the winged rumor, to wit, that Richard, Duke of York, the second-born son of Edward IV, had by no means been slain in the Tower of London (as was reported), but had been let out alive, since those executioners who lent their service to that barbarous deed, after they had seen the firstborn butchered, smitten with horror and pity, secretly released this Richard to try his lot. This bait and lure she cast everywhere, believing that the rumor and credit of this business (together with the recent example of Lambert Simnel) would perhaps sometime draw some birds that would seize it. She also used other diligence, not leaving everything to chance.
For she employed certain secret emissaries (similar to the ministers of the Turk, who exact the tribute of boys) to seek out youths winsome and comely, from whom she might fashion Plantagenets and Dukes of York. At length, however, she lighted upon a certain one in whom all the things that seemed to be required concurred for representing the Duke of York.
3. Iste fuit Perkinus ille Warbeckus, cuius facinora et labores iam narrabimus. Primo enim aetas in utroque bene conveniabat. Secundo, adolescentulus erat oris elegentia et corporis lineamentis cum dignitate quadam amabilis.
3. This was that Perkin Warbeck, whose deeds and labors we will now narrate. For, first, in age the two were well matched. Secondly, as a youth he was amiable by the elegance of his countenance and the lineaments of his body, with a certain dignity.
And moreover his manners and gestures were so crafty, and as if overlaid with certain sorceries, as much for moving to mercy as for imprinting belief, that they stood in the place of a kind of fascination and incantation for those who either saw or heard him. Thirdly, he had been so exceptional a wanderer from boyhood, or (as the king used to call him) a treader of the lands, that it was exceedingly difficult to discover his nest or his parents. Nor indeed could anyone, through long conversation or familiarity with him, fully conjecture or detect who he was, since he changed his ground so very often.
Lastly, there also befell a certain slight matter (recorded by a writer of the same time), which nevertheless it is probable contributed somewhat to the things that were afterwards done and furnished them, as it were, with a handle. This was that King Edward IV had been the godfather of this Perkin. Which, just as it was very suspicious in a lascivious king that he did not disdain to be a godfather in so ignoble a family, so too it could easily instill in anyone the opinion that Perkin had in him something of the illegitimate blood of the House of York.
Thus (although that had by no means been the case) it could at least minister an occasion to the boy (namely that he was from time to time called the lustral son of King Edward—that is, godson—or perhaps in jest “son”) for seizing and fostering such thoughts. For he had found no tutor (as Lambert Simnel had) until he came to Duchess Margaret, who in all things excellently instructed him.
4. Ad hunc igitur modum haec fabula peracta est. Fuit oppidanus quidam in civitate Turnacensi qui magistratu in eo oppido perfunctus erat, cui numen erat Ioannes Osbeckus, Iudaeus ad fidem conversus, qui in uxorem duxit Catharinam de Faro, cuius negotiorum procurato eos traxit ut ad tempus Londini habitarent temporibus Edwardi Quarti. Hoc spatio filium ex ea genuit.
4. In this manner, therefore, this tale was brought to completion. There was a certain townsman in the city of Tournai, who had discharged a magistracy in that town, whose name was John Osbeck, a Jew converted to the faith, who took to wife Catherine de Faro, the management of whose affairs drew them so that for a time they lived in London in the days of Edward IV. In this interval he begot a son by her.
And since he was known in the king’s court, the king, either moved by a certain piety—because he was a Jew converted to the faith—or led by some private acquaintance, deemed him worthy of this honor: to take his son from the font and to name him Peter. Afterwards, however, since the boy was delicate and effeminate, he was commonly called by a diminutive of his name, Peterkin or Perkin. Indeed the name Warbeck had been fastened upon him only by conjecture, before examinations about that matter had been held.
Nevertheless the name Warbeck had so prevailed that even after his true name was known it was retained. While he was still an infant, his parents returned thither with him to Tournai. A little later he was entrusted to one of his kinsmen, called John Stenbeck, who lived at Antwerp, whence he often shuttled between Antwerp and Tournai, and around other towns of Flanders, for the most part consorting with the English, whereby he also knew the English language to a nicety.
At length, a few years having slipped by, after he had grown into a handsome adolescent, he was conducted to Duchess Margaret by one of her spies. She, having looked him over carefully and seeing that in countenance and body he could sustain an exalted fortune, and at the same time perceiving that he stood out by acumen of wit and elegance of manners, supposed that she had now found a certain precious marble from which the image of the Duke of York might be sculpted; and she kept him with her for a long time, but entirely in secret. During which span of time she instructed him by many secret colloquies, first indeed teaching how he should imitate the persona of a prince in aspect and gesture, and how he should defend his majesty yet with a sense of his misfortune.
Then indeed she most diligently informed him about all the circumstances and particular marks that pertained to the Duke of York (whose person was to be acted by him). For she described the effigy, face, and lineaments of the body of the king and queen, his parents, and likewise of his brothers and sisters and servants and of others who had especially been present to his boyhood, together with many matters, some commonly known, others more secret, which befell the duke (and such as seemed likely to adhere to a boyish grasp and memory) up to the death of Edward IV. She added also all the particulars which ensued from the time of the king’s death, until he and his brother were shut up in the Tower, both while he enjoyed liberty and afterwards when he dwelt in asylum.
As to the time of his detention in the Tower, and the manner of his brother’s slaying and of his own release: she well knew that all those matters had been so clandestine that very few would be able to refute whatever it might at length please him to fabricate; and thus that he could use a completely free lie. Wherefore she wove for Perkin a polished and probable narration of those things, ordering that he should not depart so much as a whit from it.
It was also agreed between them what sort of account the adolescent should render of his peregrinations, mixing many true things—and such as others could abundantly attest—with falsehoods to make credence, yet always taking care that all things should be congruent with the persona which he was now about to act. He further instructed him how he might avoid certain captious and tempting questions about which it was likely others would interrogate him. But in this he found him by his own disposition so, like an eel, slippery and prompt to slip away that he could easily trust to his wit and dexterity, and therefore he labored the less at it.
Finally he encouraged him by some rewards in the present and by enormous promises for the future, setting before his eyes the wealth and the glory of a kingdom if the matter should succeed; but, if it should turn out otherwise, the most certain refuge in his own court. After he had perceived that he was sufficiently instructed by his own instructions, he began to consider with himself from which region of the sky this comet ought first to show itself and at what time. He determined, moreover, that this ought to be done from the horizon of Ireland.
And therefore, if Perkin were to proceed straight from Flanders into Ireland, she herself would be thought to be mixing herself into that affair. Moreover, the time was not yet mature, because the two kings were then treating about peace. And so the duchess maneuvered, and, in order to remove all suspicions, and fearing to keep him with her longer (well aware that secrets are for the most part of short life), she secretly sent him into Lusitania with Lady Brampton, an Englishwoman who at that time sailed to Lusitania, together with a faithful man from her own household who should diligently observe his doings, where she wished him to stay until he should receive new mandates from her.
Meanwhile she did not omit to prepare and set those matters in order, not only in the kingdom of Ireland, but also at the court of France. In Portugal he remained for about one year, during which time King Henry (as has already been said) had convened his Parliament and had openly declared war on the French. Now therefore it seemed that a benevolent sign was in the ascendant, and that the constellation had arrived under which Perkin was to arise.
Therefore he received mandates from the duchess to set out to Ireland without delay, according to what he had first destined. In Ireland he made landfall at the city of Cork. After he had come there (if anyone is willing to believe his own relation and confession which he later produced), the Irish, finding him rather splendidly attired, had flocked to him from every side in numbers, imposing on him that he was the Duke of Clarence, the same who had previously stayed among them, and afterwards, their opinion changed, that he was the illegitimate son of Richard III.
Finally, spurning even this opinion too, they wanted and asserted for certain that he was Richard, duke of York, the second-born son of Edward IV. He for his part (he said) had, to the best of his power, denied all these things, and had offered an oath with the Gospels touched that he was nothing of the sort, until at last by a certain force they had driven him to acknowledge whatever they wished, whereupon they ordered him to be of good courage and without fear. But in truth it was ascertained that immediately upon his arrival in Ireland he had assumed upon himself the persona of the duke of York, and had joined to himself allies and conspirators by whatever means he could.
5. Circa idem tempus ducissa ad se pellexerat unum ex servis regis interioribus (cui nomen erat Stephanus Frionus) secretarium regis pro lingua Gallica, hominem industrium sed turbulentum et regi infensum. Frionus ille confugerat ad Carolum regem Gallum, seque in eius famulitium insinuaverat sub ipsum tempus quo bellum inter reges aperte pullulare coepisset. At Carlus, postquam de persona et incoeptis Perkini audiisset (satis ex sese promptus ad occasiones quascunque arripiendas in detrimentum regis Angliae, atque a Friono instigatus, et ante a ducissae Margaritae artibus allectus) statim misit quendam Lucam una cum Friono isto (de quo diximus) tanquam legatos ad Perkinum, qui eum de regis Caroli bono in eum animo certiorem facerent, quodque auxilia abunde mittere decrevisset ad recuperandum regnum suum e manibus Henrici, coronae Angliae usurpatoris et Galliae hostis, invitans eum ut ad se in regnum Galliae veniret.
5. About the same time the duchess had lured to herself one of the king’s inner servants (whose name was Stephen Frion), the king’s secretary for the French tongue, a man industrious but turbulent and hostile to the king. That Frion had fled to King Charles the French, and had insinuated himself into his service at the very moment when war between the kings began openly to sprout. But Charles, after he had heard about the person and undertakings of Perkin (being of himself quite ready to seize whatever occasions to the detriment of the king of England, and instigated by Frion, and earlier allured by the arts of Duchess Margaret), immediately sent a certain Lucas together with that same Frion (of whom we have spoken) as envoys to Perkin, to inform him of King Charles’s good disposition toward him, and that he had resolved to send assistance in abundance to recover his kingdom from the hands of Henry, the usurper of the crown of England and the enemy of France, inviting him to come to him into the realm of France.
Perkin thought himself already placed in heaven when he was summoned by so great a king with so honorific a legation, and, telling his friends in Ireland how he had been called by Fortune herself and with how great a hope he was acting, he straightway sailed into France. When he reached the court of the king of France, the king received him with great honor and greeted and addressed him by the name of the Duke of York, assigning to him lodging and other things which would befit a great prince. Also, that he might the more approach the imitation of a great prince, he set around him a bodyguard, whose commander was Lord Congressallus as prefect.
The courtiers too (although among the French it is not easy to play at such games) adjusted themselves to the king’s nod, well knowing that the reasons of state stood on that side. At the same time certain principal men from England set out to Perkin—George Neville, John Taylor, knights, and about a hundred others—and among the rest that same Frion, who then and long after committed himself wholly to Perkin’s fortunes, and in truth was his chief counsellor and a well-effectual instrument for everything. But all this, on the part of the French king, was done only artfully, that he might the more easily bend Henry to peace.
Therefore, from the very first grain of incense burned upon the altar of peace at Bologna, Perkin was as if driven off by the smoke. Yet Charles refused to hand him over into the hands of King Henry (though interpellated by him on this point) for the sake of his own honor, but dismissed him free. Also on his own part Perkin accelerated his departure, fearing lest he be intercepted suddenly and secretly.
Therefore he hastened into Flanders to the Duchess of Burgundy, declaring that, tossed by various billows of fortune, he had fled for refuge to her court as to a safe port, utterly dissembling that he had ever before lodged there, but as though he were now for the first time withdrawn thither. Nor less on the other side the Duchess herself wished his advent to appear a new and wondrous thing, from the beginning, with excellent dissimulation, casting words to the effect that she had been taught and made more prudent by the example of Lambert Simnel, lest she receive adulterine wares, although (as she said) even concerning that very Lambert Simnel the matter had not yet been altogether settled with her. She further pretended (but this was always with others standing by) that she was striving to try Perkin with sufficiently captious interrogations and to entangle him, in order to find out whether he had been the true Duke of York.
But whenever she affirmed that by his answers she had been greatly satisfied, then indeed she would feign herself as if thunder‑struck and rapt into ecstasy because of the wondrous emergence of the youth out of dangers, embracing him as though he had returned from death to life, and arguing that God, who by such marvelous modes had snatched him from destruction, had at the same time determined to reserve him for the prosperities of fortune and for some great exploit. As for his dismissal from France, she did not wish to interpret it as though the French had scented out Perkin’s frauds, or through any neglect; but on the contrary she asserted, as a sure sign, that he had been held for some great man, since the abandonment and desertion of his cause was in truth of such weight that, if one rightly consider, it had concluded peace—by immolating, namely, the fortunes of an innocent and calamity‑stricken prince to the utility and ambition of two potent monarchs. Nor did Perkin himself fail himself, either in a certain royal majesty and comity, or in prompt and apposite responses, or in showing himself benign and gracious to those suing for his favor, or in a certain restrained indignation and disdain toward those who seemed to somewhat doubt the truth of his affairs; but in all things he bore himself admirably.
So that not only among the more eminent it was steadfastly believed that he was the true Duke Richard, but even he himself, from long and constant simulation, and by telling the lie again and again, was almost turned into the habit of the very thing he was counterfeiting, as if the things he fashioned he at the same time also believed. The duchess therefore, as in a matter verified, heaped Perkin with very many honors, continually addressing him as her nephew, and bestowing on him that dainty title the white rose of England, and for the guard of his person assigned him bodyguards to the number of thirty men with battle-axes, clad in parti-colored tunics of purple and blue. All the courtiers likewise, and in general both the Flemings and the foreigners, accompanied him with great honor.
6. Haec nova veluti fulgura et tonitrua in Angliam pervenerunt, ducem scilicet Eboraci pro certo vivere. Nomen autem Perkini eo tempore incognitum fuit, sed rumores de duce Eboraci tantum volitarunt, eum in Hibernia agnitum, in Gallia venundatum, iamque in Flandria receptum et in magno honore esse. Rumores isti plurimum praevalebant, apud nonnullos quidem propter malevolentiam, apud alios propter ambitionem, apud aliquos propter levitatem et rerum novarum studium, apud paucos fortasse propter conscientiam et credulitatem, apud plurimos autem propter imbecillitatem iudicii, et apud haud paucos propter obsequium erga viros quosdam primarios qui his rumoribus in secreto favebant eosque alebant.
6. These new, as it were, lightnings and thunders reached England—namely, that the Duke of York was certainly alive. The name of Perkin at that time was unknown, but only rumors about the Duke of York flitted about: that he had been recognized in Ireland, put up for sale in France, and now received in Flanders and held in great honor. These rumors prevailed greatly—among some indeed because of malevolence, among others because of ambition, among certain persons because of levity and a zeal for novelties, among a few perhaps because of conscience and credulity, but among very many because of weakness of judgment, and among not a few because of deference toward certain leading men who secretly favored and fostered these rumors.
Nor, after no great interval, did there fail to follow upon these rumors the murmurs and scandals of revolution against the king and his government, which branded him with infamy because he was a great exactor and depressed the nobles of the realm. The loss of Brittany and the peace made with the French were by no means passed over in silence. But above all they pressed the injury with which the king was afflicting his queen, namely, that he did not reign in her right.
They said, then, that God had at length brought forth into the light a male branch of the Yorkist family, who would not be going to reign by sufferance, however the king might despoil his poor wife of the kingdom. Nevertheless (as is wont to happen in those things which obtain credence among the common crowd, and which they gladly hear) these rumors gained such strength that their authors hid their head among the multitude of speakers, like certain creeping herbs which have no fixed root, or like footprints stamped to and fro which it is not permitted to follow. But a little later these malignant humors flowed together into an ulcer, and secretly found a seat in certain men of great dignity, as it were in the nobler members.
The chief of whom were William Stanley, chamberlain of the king’s household, Lord Fitzwalter, Simon Mountfort, Thomas Thwait, knights, with others. These men conspired in secret, promising that they would promote the title of Duke Richard. Nevertheless, none of the conspirators ventured his fortunes into peril except two, to wit Robert Clifford, a knight, and William Barley; these two crossed into Flanders, sent by the conspirators in England to inquire diligently and explore the truth of those matters which were being agitated in Flanders, together with a good sum of money, but on condition that they should not disburse it unless they perceived that the things reported were true and without disguise.
The advent of Robert Clifford, because he was originating from a great family and celebrated by fame, was welcome beyond measure to the duchess; who, after she had conversed with him, brought him into the sight of Perkin, with whom he engaged in conversations frequently. So much that in the end (whether induced by the duchess to favor her endeavors, or by Perkin to believe the fable) he wrote back to England that he knew the person of the Duke of York as well as his own, and that, without doubt, that adolescent was the true duke.
7. Rex ex sua parte non dormiebat, verum arma sumere aut copias cogere adhuc intempestivum putabat, ne metum proderet aut idolo isti cultum nimium exhiberet. Attamen portus regni clausit, vel saltem ministros praefecit qui commeantes ultro citroque observarent et suspectos examini subiicerent. Quoad reliqua vero, fraudem fraude propellere elegit.
7. The king on his part was not asleep, but judged it as yet unseasonable to take up arms or to muster forces, lest he betray fear or exhibit excessive worship to that idol. Nevertheless he shut the ports of the realm, or at least set officers over them to observe those passing to and fro and to subject the suspect to examination. As to the rest, he chose to repel fraud with fraud.
There were, however, two things which he had determined in mind: one, to expose Perkin’s imposture to the eyes of all; the other, to set the conspirators at odds among themselves. For the convicting of the imposture, only two roads lay open: first, that it should appear clearly that the Duke of York had in reality been butchered; the second, that whether he were dead or alive, it should be evident to all that Perkin was in any case an impostor. As to the first, the case stood thus.
There were only four witnesses who, from their own knowledge, could affirm the killing of the duke of York. They were James Tyrrell, who had received orders about that matter from King Richard; John Dighton and Miles Forest, Tyrrell’s servants, the executioners themselves; and the chaplain of the Tower of London, who buried them. Of these four, Miles and the priest were already dead.
Among the living, however, only Tirrell and Dighton survive. The king ordered these two to be imprisoned in the Tower, and to be strictly examined about the murder of those innocent princes. These two presented a confession (as the king himself published) entirely agreeing, to this effect: namely, that King Richard had at first given orders to Brackenbury, the lieutenant of the Tower of London, to kill the princes, but that he had refused that task; and so Richard renewed similar orders to James Tirrell, to wit, that he should receive the keys of the Tower from the lieutenant for one night to execute the king’s special commands; therefore Tirrell by night betook himself to the Tower together with the two aforesaid servants, whom he had selected for the crime; Tirrell himself remained at the bottom of the stairs and committed the business to his servants, that they might perpetrate the homicide; but they suffocated the princes as they lay in bed; this done, they called their master to see the naked bodies of the dead, which for that reason they had exposed; afterwards indeed the princes were buried in the ground beneath the stairs, and a heap of stones was thrown into the pit; when Tirrell reported to King Richard that his mandate had now been carried out, he gave him great thanks, only disapproving the place of their burial, because it was too mean, since they were born of a king; whence on another night, by the king’s command, through the chaplain of the Tower, their bodies were transferred and buried in another place, which (through the death of the priest, who died shortly after) was utterly unknown.
This was published to the populace as the sum of those examinations. King Henry, however, used the light of those examinations and confessions in none of the declarations he issued, whence (it is probable) they left the matter obscure and perplexed. As for James Tyrrell, his head was struck off shortly thereafter in the Tower itself for other crimes of lèse-majesté.
John Dighton (who, as it seemed, spoke most suitably to the king’s desire) was immediately released free, and was the principal organ for the publishing of this tradition. Therefore, the more this prior testimony and kind of proof appeared bare and jejune, the more diligence did the king employ in elucidating the later matter, namely concerning the life and vestiges of Perkin. To this end he sent into diverse parts, but chiefly into Flanders, certain secret and industrious spies—some as though they had fled to Perkin and had determined to adhere to him, others however under various other pretexts.
who should ferret out all the several special circumstances and events touching Perkin’s parents, birth, person, and peregrinations; to say it in a word, who should compile a diary of his life and deeds. These his explorers he furnished liberally with monies, that they might draw to themselves men who had knowledge of matters of this sort, and that those men might be remunerated; giving them also mandates that they should from time to time signify to him what they had discovered, and nonetheless proceed in the inquisition. And, continually, with one messenger calling forth another, he added new men wherever the nature of the business demanded it.
But he sent others with more inward mandates and a clearer participation of his counsels, who should exert diligence in the matters by which he was contriving interruption and dissipation of Perkin’s undertakings. To these it was committed that they should insinuate themselves thoroughly into the familiarity of those who stood for Perkin’s party in Flanders, and in that way fish out whom they had already taken to themselves as associates and participants in counsels, both here in England and abroad; and how far each of them had given trust or a pledge of himself, and whom moreover they had in mind to tempt and allure. And not that they should inquire only about the persons, but also, as much as could be done, that they should inform concerning the actions, hope, and machinations of Perkin and the conspirators.
These spies, accounted the more faithful (or at least some of them), received more secret mandates, to alienate and avert from him Perkin’s principal friends and servants, by proposing and intimating to them how futile and feeble a foundation his affair rested upon, and with how prudent and powerful a king they had to do; and to reconcile them to the king, pardon being promised and likewise rewards according as they should deserve. But before all others, that they should assail and undermine the constancy of Robert Clifford, and draw him, if they could, to the king’s side; since that man knew the inmost secrets of the adverse party most excellently, and who, if he should desert those parts, could most greatly deter the rest and fill them with mutual suspicions.
8. Mirum etiam quiddam traditur, regem nimurum sylva immani suspicionum circundatum et involutum, neque cui fidem haberet satis certum, cum confessoribus et capellanis complurium virorum primariorum secreto egisse, ut ex iis de consiliis adversariorum suorum edoceretur. Quintentiam, quo exploratoribus suis transmarinis plus fidei apud exteros conciliaret, regem saepius iussisse illos ipsos exploratores inter caeteros suos, pro more illis temporibus usitato, in templo divi Pauli nominatim diris devoveri. Isti autem utriusque generis exploratores officio suo tam diligenter perfuncti sunt, ut rex Perkini licet vivi anatomiam iam reciperet, et simul de plurimis in Anglia coniuratis bene informatus esse, atque alia insuper mysteria ei essent revelata.
8. A certain marvel also is reported: namely that the king, surrounded and enfolded by an immense forest of suspicions, and not quite certain in whom he might place faith, dealt secretly with the confessors and chaplains of several principal men, that he might be fully instructed by them concerning the counsels of his adversaries. And moreover, in order to conciliate for his transmarine spies more credit among foreigners, the king often ordered those very spies, among his other persons, according to the usage then customary, to be cursed by name with dire anathemas in the church of St. Paul. Now these spies of both kinds discharged their office so diligently that the king was already receiving, as it were, an anatomy of Perkin, though alive, and at the same time was well informed about very many conspirators in England, and other mysteries besides were revealed to him.
Robert Clifford was above all drawn into the king’s party, and was now become an industrious and dutiful minister for promoting the king’s affairs. Therefore the king (reaping a large harvest of his diligence, and amply informed about very many matters it concerned him to know) throughout the whole realm broadcast and spread reports about Perkin’s imposture and prestiges, with all that pertained thereto, copiously enough and fully. He did this, however, not by edict (since the examinations were not yet perfected, and therefore might admit of more or less), but by aulic rumors, which for the most part penetrate deeper than edicts struck off by the press.
He now also thought it seasonable to send a legation into Flanders to Archduke Philip, which should negotiate with him to abandon Perkin’s cause, and to be willing to dismiss him from his territories. In this legation the king employed the services of Edward Poynings, a knight of the gilded spur, and William Warham, likewise a knight of the gilded spur and a doctor of canon law. The archduke was then in his minority and was governed by his counselors.
9. "Domini mei, rex noster aegre admodum fert quod, cum Anglia et ducatus vester Burgundiae habiti sunt tamdiu instar mariti et uxoris, iam regio ista vestra veluti scena facta sit super quam vilis praestigiator partes regis Angliae ageret, non solum ad celsitudinis suae molestiam et dedecus, verum etiam in contumeliam et opporobrium quotquot sunt regum et principum. Adulteratio imaginis regis alicuius in moneta sua capitale omnium legum consensu iudicatur. Verum regis vivi imaginem in persona adulterare super omnia imposturarum crimina merito palmam fert, nisi forte excipi debeat impostura Mahometi alicuius aut Antichristi qui maiestatem divinam simularunt.
9. "My lords, our king takes it very ill that, whereas England and your duchy of Burgundy have for so long been held after the fashion of husband and wife, now this your region has been made as it were a stage upon which a base prestidigitator would play the part of the King of England, not only to the annoyance and disgrace of his Highness, but also to the insult and opprobrium of all kings and princes whatsoever. The adulteration of the image of any king upon his own coinage is adjudged capital by the consensus of all laws. But to adulterate, in person, the image of a living king deservedly bears the palm above all crimes of imposture—unless perhaps there should be excepted the imposture of some Mahomet or of Antichrist who simulated divine majesty.
Our lord the king augurs better from this most grave council than that he could believe any one of you to have been caught by this fable (even if perhaps the passion of some particular person might somewhat incline you). The thing itself is so incredible that I shall omit the testimonies concerning the death of Duke Richard, which the king has set down in authentic instruments (since someone might suppose that these are in the king’s own proper power); let the thing itself speak for itself. For no one commands reason and arguments. Do you believe it can be that Richard III would wish to damn his soul and stain his name with so nefarious a homicide, yet without any advancement of his affairs for the better?
Or can you even suppose that sanguinary men (who were his executioners) were turned to mercy in the midst of the crime? When, on the contrary, in the very beasts, and no less in men of a bestial nature, the first taste of blood is wont to drive them the more into fury and render them rabid? Do you not know that the bloody ministers of tyrants, for perpetrating crimes of this sort, are, as it were, always sent forth with halters on their necks?
Would they perchance have sent him out into the streets of London, so that the watchmen might apprehend him and set him in the presence of some one of the justices of the peace, whence all the things they had done would be brought to light through an examination? Or rather would they keep him in secret? And this would have been a matter of much care, expense, and continual peril.
But (my lords), in a matter not doubtful I employ arguments not necessary. The king abounds so much in prudence, as well as in faithful friends in foreign parts, that he has already thoroughly known Duke Perkin even from the cradle. And since he is indeed a great prince, if among you there be found some suitable poet, he could furnish memoranda to him for the composing of his life, introducing him as, so to speak, a parallel to Lambert Simnel, now one of the king’s falconers.
Wherefore (that I may dissimulate nothing before your lordships) the duchess Margaret surely surpasses all admiration (pardon me, I beseech you, if I name her, whose hatred against the king has no cause and no end), now advanced in years, at an age at which other women are wont to cease from puerpery, to have borne two monsters of this kind, not births of nine or ten months, but deliveries of several years. And whereas other natural mothers bring forth infants weak, who cannot lift or help themselves, she on the contrary bears tall adolescents, who not long after they have come forth into the light are able to do battle with powerful kings. My lords, I do not willingly linger on this part.
Would that at last that duchess would bring herself to taste the joys which almighty God with a kindly hand extends to her, by beholding her granddaughter reigning in such honor and blessed with so numerous a royal offspring, whom (if it pleased her) she could reckon as her own. The King’s request, to be presented by us now to the archduke and to your lordships, may be such that, following the example of King Charles, who long since drove him away, you should be willing to eliminate that knave from your territories. But since the King may deservedly expect something greater from an ancient confederate than from an enemy only recently reconciled, he asks of you that you deliver him into his own hands, especially since pirates and impostors of this kind ought to be held as common enemies of the human race, nor can they rely on the protection of the law of nations."
10. Post nonnihil temporis ad deliberandum interpositum, legati hoc breve responsum tulerunt: archiducem in Henrici gratiam nullatenus duci Eboraci praetenso auxilia aut favorem praestiturum, sed in omnibus amicitiam quae ei cum rege erat conservaturum. Quatenus vero ad ducissam dotariam, illam in terris dotis suae plenam habere potestatem, ideoque in manu archiducis non esse, quo minus re sua pro arbitruo suo utatur, eam impedire.
10. After a little time interposed for deliberation, the legates brought this brief response: that the archduke, for Henry’s sake, would by no means furnish aid or favor to the pretended Duke of York, but in all things would preserve the friendship which he had with the king. As to the dowager duchess, that she had full power in the lands of her dower, and therefore was not in the archduke’s hand, so as to prevent her from using her own property at her own arbitrium.
11. Rex post reditum legatorum neutiquam sibi hoc responso satisfactum esse iudicavit. Satis enim sciebat dotem matrimonialem nihil quod absoluti imperii esset (quale est copiarum administratio) secum transferre. Quin et legati disertis verbis ei retulerunt ducissam in concilio archiducis magna auctoritate pollere.
11. The king, after the return of the legates, judged himself by no means satisfied by this response. For he knew well that a matrimonial dowry transfers with it nothing that pertains to absolute authority (such as the administration of the forces). Indeed, the legates also reported to him in explicit terms that the duchess wields great authority in the archduke’s council.
And although the archduke should only feign to connive at Perkin’s affairs, yet he secretly promoted the same man’s undertakings. Therefore (partly wishing to satisfy his spirit, partly induced by reasons of policy) he forthwith ordered all Burgundians to go into exile from his realms, both their persons and their merchandise; mandating his subjects (and by name the merchants commonly called the Adventurers) who resided at Antwerp to return home at once, transferring the emporium (which for the most part followed English cloths) to Calais, and interdicting all commerce in future with the Burgundians. This the king did partly that he might permit nothing unworthy of his honor, which might be not a little grazed if any pretender to the crown of England should assail him from so near at hand, and meanwhile that he himself should not interrupt friendship with the nation in which that pretender displayed himself.
But at the same time, with most prudent counsel, he considered with himself that the subjects of Flanders derive such great lucre from commerce with the English that, with that public interdict in place, they might quickly be affected with tedium of Perkin’s affairs; and that the tumults of Flanders had been so recent and grave that it would be untimely for the prince to irritate the people. Nevertheless the archduke, as by a kind of talion, likewise ordered the English to go into exile from Flanders—in which, if one look rightly into the matter, he was only doing what had already been done.
12. Rex bene iam et certo informatus quod spes Perkini magis a coniuratis intra Angliam quam ab armis transmarinis penderent, iudicabat remedium mali eo optime applicari ubi fomes morbi erat. Itaque consultissimum existimavit in iudicum adducere praecipuos aliquos ex conuratis in Anglia, unde et malignos humores in Anglia expurgaret et spes in Flandria ebullientes redderet tepidiores. Iussit itaque apprehendi (eodem quasi temporis momento) Ioannem Ratcliffum dominum Fitzwaterum, Simonem Mountfortum, Thomam Thwaitum equites auratos, Guilielmum Daubeneum, Robertum Ratcliffum, Thomas Cressenorum, et Thomam Astwodum.
12. The king, now well and surely informed that Perkin’s hopes depended more upon conspirators within England than upon transmarine arms, judged that the remedy of the evil was best applied where the fuel of the disease was. Therefore he deemed it most prudent to bring some principal men of the conspirators in England to judgment, whence he might both purge the malignant humors in England and make the hopes bubbling up in Flanders more tepid. He therefore ordered to be apprehended (as it were at the same moment of time) John Ratcliffe, Lord Fitzwater, Simon Mountfort, Thomas Thwait, knights; William Daubeney, Robert Ratcliffe, Thomas Cressenor, and Thomas Astwood.
These men were accused of lèse-majesté, convicted, and condemned, because they had adhered to Perkin and had promised him assistance. Of these, Lord Fitzwater was conveyed across to Calais and kept under guard there, even with hope of life given to him, until a little later—either impatient of custody or betrayed by a stratagem—he negotiated with his keeper about escape, whereupon he was immediately beheaded. But to Simon Mountfort, Robert Ratcliff, and William Daubeney, immediately after the sentence pronounced upon them, their heads were cut off.
13. Camerarius hospitis regii illo sane tempore intactus permansit, sive quod rex humores varios simul movere metuerit, more medicorum prudentium qui caput ultimo loco expurgant, sive quod Cliffordus (ex cuius literis plurima de coniuratis rex didicerat) hanc partem in adventum suum, ut rem maximi meriti reservavit, regi tamen interim significans suspicari se aliquos ex potentioribus huic coniurationi nomina dedisse, de qua re regi coram satisfacere in animo haberet.
13. The chamberlain of the king’s guest at that time indeed remained untouched, either because the king feared to stir diverse humors all at once, after the manner of prudent physicians who purge the head in the last place, or because Clifford (from whose letters the king had learned very many things about the conspirators) reserved this part for his own arrival, as a matter of the highest merit—yet meanwhile signifying to the king that he suspected some of the more powerful had given in their names to this conspiracy, about which matter he intended to satisfy the king in person.
14. In vigilia omnium sanctorum, decimo autem regis anno, filius regis secundogenitus Henricus dux Eboraci creatus est, et simul tam dux ipse quam alii complures nobiles, equites aurati, et generosi eminentiores in ordinem equitum de balneo pro ritu usitato cooptati sunt. Crastino epiphaniae, rex a palatio suo Westmonasterii (ubi festum nativitatis domini celebraverat) ad turrim Londinensem se contulit. Hoc fecit simul ac audisset Cliffordum (in cuius sinu aut capsula plurima Perkini arcana reposita erant) in Angliam appulisse.
14. On the Vigil of All Saints, moreover in the king’s tenth year, the king’s second-born son Henry was created Duke of York; and at the same time both the duke himself and several other nobles, knights of the golden spurs, and the more eminent gentlemen were co-opted into the Order of the Knights of the Bath according to the customary rite. On the morrow of the Epiphany, the king betook himself from his palace at Westminster (where he had celebrated the feast of the Nativity of the Lord) to the Tower of London. He did this as soon as he had heard that Clifford (in whose bosom or casket many of Perkin’s secrets had been deposited) had made landfall in England.
The king’s lodging at the Tower was chosen with this design: that, if Clifford should accuse any of the more powerful, they might, without suspicion or clamor, or mandates being sent hither and thither, be seized at once, since both the palace and the prison were enclosed by a single cincture of wall. After a day or two had elapsed, he convoked a secret and select council, and admitted Clifford to his presence. Clifford, first having thrown himself at the king’s feet, most humbly implored his pardon and grace; which the king then not grudgingly granted to him, although he had previously, in secret, received security for his life.
15. Rex ad nomen huius viri praenobilis visus est obstupescere, ac si de prodigio aliquo miro ac formidabili nuncium accepisset. Fieri non posse ut vir, qui eum tanto officio obligasset, quale fuit, vitam eius servasse, et coronam capiti imposuisse, vir qui tam splendida et copiosa fortuna frueretur favore eius, tam opibus quam honoribus auctus, vir qui etiam tam propinquo affinitatis gradu devinctus esset, cum frater eius germanus matri regis matrimonio iunctus esset, denique vir cuius fidei rex personam suam commiserat, eum constituendo camerarium suum, ut vir iste, adhuc apud regem gratia florens, nec ullo modo gravatus, nec etiam metu aliquo perculsus, sibi infidus esset. Cliffordus iussus est ut iterum atque iterum capita accusationis suae adversus Stanleium recenseret, admonitus subinde ut in re tam incredibili et quae tantum virum impeteret, veritatis limites nullo modo excederet.
15. At the name of this most-noble man the king seemed to be stupefied, as if he had received a message of some prodigy marvelous and formidable. It could not be, he thought, that a man who had obliged him by so great a service as it was—having preserved his life and set the crown upon his head—, a man who enjoyed so splendid and copious a fortune by his favor, increased both in wealth and in honors, a man who also was bound to him by so close a degree of affinity, since his own full brother had been joined in matrimony to the king’s mother, finally a man to whose fidelity the king had committed his own person by appointing him his chamberlain, that this man, still flourishing in the king’s favor, and in no way burdened, nor even stricken by any fear, should be unfaithful to him. Clifford was ordered to recount again and again the heads of his accusation against Stanley, being warned repeatedly that in a matter so incredible, and one that assailed so great a man, he should in no way exceed the limits of truth.
But the king, seeing his moderation and constancy in asserting what he affirmed without any hesitation or vacillation, and with those protestations that were befitting, and since he undertook that he would defend his testimony at the peril of his life and soul, ordered him to be removed; and, after first complaining much of his fortune before the council, directed that Stanley be kept under guard in his own chamber within the Square Tower, where he had previously lodged. On the following day Stanley was examined by the councillors. In his examination he denied hardly any of the things that were alleged against him, nor did he attempt greatly to excuse or extenuate his offense.
So that (not very prudently), while he hoped to alleviate his guilt by confessing ingenuously, he set the matter in such clear light that it sufficed for his own condemnation. The opinion was that he relied greatly on his prior merits and on the intercession of his brother. But over against those aids there preponderated several things that made against him, and they predominated in the king’s disposition and mind.
First, the pre-eminence of his merits: even to kings the mediocrity of merits is agreeable, for which equal rewards can be made. Secondly, the apprehension of his power: for the thought came over the king that from the same man who had exalted him, danger threatened him lest he be cast down again. Third, the expectation of a great confiscation: for of all the king’s subjects Stanley was the richest, as afterward became clear, forty thousand marks having been found in his castle of Holt in coined moneys and in vessels of gold and silver, besides jewels, sumptuous furnishings, flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, and other movable goods in huge abundance.
But as regards revenues, both from lands and from fiefs, these amounted annually to 3,000 pounds of ancient assessment, a thing, by the measure of those times, marvelous and almost unheard-of. Lastly, the condition of the time itself: for if the king had been plainly immune from fear with respect to his own status, it is likely the king would have granted Stanley the favor of life. But with the tempest of so atrocious a rebellion impending, he was compelled to consult his own security.
Therefore, after an interval of six weeks had elapsed (which delay the king interposed honorably, both to allow time for his brother’s intercession and to make it plain that he was driven to this not without a certain conflict of mind), he was condemned for high treason, and immediately thereafter beheaded.
16. Attamen usque ad hodiernum diem incertae memoriae est, tam crimen ipsum huius praenobilis personae propter quod morte mulctatus est, quam caussa defectionis suae a rege et infensi sui erga regem animi. Casus eius talis fuisse perhibetur, quod scilicet in colloquiis suis cum Roberto Cliffordo dixisset se, si exploratum sibi esset adolescentem illum verum fuisse Edwardi Quarti filium, nunquam contra eum arma gesturum. Casus iste videtur primo intuitu paulo durior, tam propter particulam conditionalem quam propter verba reliqua.
16. Yet down to the present day it remains of uncertain record, both the very charge itself of this most noble personage on account of which he was punished with death, and the cause of his defection from the king and of his hostile disposition toward the king. His case is reported to have been this: namely, that in his conversations with Robert Clifford he had said that, if it had been ascertained to him that that youth was truly the son of Edward IV, he would never bear arms against him. This case seems at first glance somewhat harsher, as much on account of the conditional particle as on account of the remaining words.
But as regards that conditional clause, the judges of that time (who were men most thoroughly erudite in the laws, three of whom the chief were of the king’s more sacred council) seem to have judged that it would be a very dangerous thing if conditionals were admitted for qualifying treasonous words. For it would come to pass that anyone might put forth his malice, yet avoid peril. Moreover, that case was not dissimilar to the case which in later times emerged concerning Elizabeth Barton, called the holy virgin of Kent, who had said that, if King Henry had not again received Catherine, repudiated, back to himself, it would come about that he would be cast down from his kingdom and would meet a dog’s death.
But cases innumerable of this kind can be adduced. Which, as it seems, those most grave judges, recalling them to memory, were unwilling at all to give patronage to treasons with a conditional clause. But as to those positive words, that Stanley would never bear arms against the son of King Edward, although those words might indeed sound gentle, nevertheless to have said this was an explicit and direct assault and denial of the king’s title, whether by the Lancastrian line or by the authority of Parliament.
Which, beyond doubt, pierced the king more deeply than if Stanley had brandished his spear against him in the battle-line. For if Stanley were to defend that opinion—that some son of Edward relies on a title to the kingdom more potent than the king’s title—since he himself was flourishing with such authority and favor with the king, this was nothing other than to lead the whole of England by his words to affirm the same. Therefore, if anyone rightly looks into the condition of those times, those words cut even to the quick.
17. Iam vero, quantum ad caussam defectionis suae a rege, verum est regem in praelo de Bosworth, turmis hostium undique circumseptum, in extremo vitae suae periculo fuisse, cum Stanleius iste a fratre missus fuit cum tribus millibus armatorum ad regem eripiendum, quod tam fortiter et foeliciter praestitit, ut rex Richardus in eo loco occisus esset. Adeo ut vita mortalium maius beneficium accipere nequeat quam rex a manu Stanleii acceperat, cum quodammodo Christi beneficio simile quiddam esset, simul et servare et coronare. Pro quo tam insigni merito rex ei maximam gratiam habuit, eiumque consiliarium et camerarium suum constituit.
17. Now indeed, as to the cause of his defection from the king, it is true that in the battle of Bosworth, the king, encircled on every side by bands of enemies, was in the extreme peril of his life, when this Stanley was sent by his brother with three thousand armed men to rescue the king; which he accomplished so bravely and so felicitously that King Richard was slain in that place. So that the life of mortals could not receive a greater benefit than the king received from the hand of Stanley, since in a certain way it was something like the benefit of Christ, both to save and to crown at once. For which so signal a merit the king held him in the greatest favor, and appointed him his counselor and his chamberlain.
And he had even (somewhat contrary to his natural disposition) connived at those huge spoils of the battle of Bosworth, which almost all turned to this man’s advantage, so that from them he was enriched beyond measure. Yet, puffed up by so great a desert, he by no means deemed the favor returned him by the king sufficient—at least not “from a measure pressed down and running over,” as he expected. Therefore his ambition became so exorbitant and exceeded every limit that he petitioned the king to have himself created Earl of Chester.
Which honor, since it was always reckoned as the appanage of the Principality of Wales and was wont by custom to fall to the king’s firstborn son, that petition not only received a rebuff from the king, but also secretly offended his mind; for from this the king clearly perceived that Stanley’s cupidity was immoderate and his thoughts vast and irregular, and that the king’s earlier benefits had grown sordid to him, nor did he esteem them as was fitting. The king therefore began to favor him less in his heart; and, just as a little leaven is wont to corrupt the whole mass, the king’s sagacity now began to suggest to his passion—irritated by this new offense—that Stanley at the battle of Bosworth, although he had come quickly enough to save the king’s life, yet on the contrary had lingered long enough that the king’s life was put in jeopardy. Nevertheless, since he had nothing worthy for an accusation against him, he allowed him to enjoy his honors down to that extreme precipice.
18. Post eum factus est camerarius hospitii regis Aegidius dominus Daubenius, vir magnae prudentiae et fortitudinis, quae virtutes magis in eo enituerunt quod simul humanus fuerit et moderatus.
18. After him was made chamberlain of the king’s household Giles, Lord Daubeney, a man of great prudence and fortitude, which virtues shone forth the more in him because he was at the same time humane and moderate.
19. Invaluerat opinio quod Robertus Cliffordus (qui iam factus erat veluti delator regis) etiam ab initio fuisset emissarius et explorator regis, et quod in Flandriam confugisset non sine regis notitia et consensu. Verum hoc minus est probabile, tum quia nunquam mensuram illam gratiae apud regem recuperavit qua ante discessum suum fruebatur, tum praecipue quia delatio eius circa Stanleium (quod ei pro maximo merito erat) minime processit ex iis quae in Flandria didicerat, sed ei res illa ante discessum suum ex Anglia innotuerat.
19. The opinion had prevailed that Robert Clifford (who had already been made, as it were, the king’s delator) had also from the beginning been the king’s emissary and scout, and that he had fled into Flanders not without the king’s notice and consent. But this is less probable, both because he never recovered with the king that measure of favor which he had enjoyed before his departure, and chiefly because his delation concerning Stanley (which was accounted to him as his greatest merit) by no means proceeded from things which he had learned in Flanders, but that matter had become known to him before his departure from England.
20. Supplicium Stanleii et caeterorum (praecipue vero Stanleii, qui robur fuerat partium) et defectio Cliffordi, qui omnium erat apud rebelles intimus, Perkini et coniuratorum incoepta miris modis turbavit, tam metum iniiciendo quam suspiciones et diffidentiam. Adeo ut iam instar arenae essent sine calce, male inter se cohaerentes, praecipue qui ex Anglis essent. Qui iam attoniti se mutuo oblique intuebatur incerte quis partibus suis fidus esset, quis secus.
20. The execution of Stanley and of the others (but especially of Stanley, who had been the strength of the faction), and the defection of Clifford, who of all was the most intimate among the rebels, disturbed in remarkable ways the undertakings of Perkin and the conspirators, as much by injecting fear as by engendering suspicions and diffidence. So that now they were like sand without lime, ill cohering among themselves, especially those who were from among the English. Who now, thunderstruck, looked askance at one another, uncertain who was faithful to their side, who otherwise.
But they plainly supposed that the king, partly by luring with rewards and partly by artifice enmeshing, would draw over into his party all who were of any value. And indeed it came to pass that very many withdrew singly, one after another. Barley (who had been sent together with Clifford) was among those who remained the longest in loyalty toward the rebels, until Perkin was nearly worn down; yet even he in the end was reconciled to the king.
But the downfall of this great man (to wit, Stanley), who had flourished, as it was believed, with such favor and authority with the king, and the very manner in which the king handled that affair—whence it plainly appeared that a secret inquisition had long before been pressing upon him, before he had been brought to trial—together with the cause for which he was subjected to punishment, which was scarcely other than that he had affirmed the title of the House of York to be preferable to the title of the House of Lancaster, in which case almost all were included, at least as regards inward opinion—these all (I say) were matters of incredible terror to all the king’s servants and subjects, so that hardly anyone reckoned himself safe. Nay more, the matter had gone so far that men scarcely dared to engage in conversations among themselves, but a universal mistrust seized upon all. Whence it came to pass that the king enjoyed a dominion more absolute, to be sure, but less secure.
21. Hic orti sunt innumeri famosi libelli (qui libertatis sermonis cohibitae eruptiones sunt, et seditionum quasi femellae) infinita in regem et aliquos ex consiliariis suis intimis scandala et invectivas eiaculantes. Pro quibus componendis et spargendis, post multam et diligentem inquisitionem quinque tantum tenuis conditionis homines apprehensi sunt et morte mulctati.
21. Here there arose innumerable notorious libels (which are eruptions of restrained liberty of speech, and, as it were, the female-breeders of seditions), spewing infinite scandals and invectives against the king and some of his most intimate counselors. For the composing and spreading of these, after much and diligent inquisition, only five men of low condition were apprehended and mulcted with death.
22. Rex interea res Hiberniae non non neglexit. Is enim ager erat in quo fungi illi (qui nocte una se attollunt) maxime vigere solebant. Misit igitur ex Anglia (quo res suas in eo regno melius componeret et stabiliret) utriusque togae delegatos, priorem nempe de Lanthony, ut cancellarii munere ibi fungeretur, et Edwardum Poyningum equitum auratum, cum copiis militaribus et potestate imperatoria, atque una diploma dedit auctoritatem in eum conferens locumtenentis sui in regimine civili.
22. Meanwhile the King by no means neglected the affairs of Ireland. For that was the field in which those mushrooms (which in a single night lift themselves up) were especially wont to thrive. He therefore sent out of England (that he might the better compose and stabilize his affairs in that kingdom) delegates of both togas (i.e., both civil and military): the Prior of Lanthony, namely, to perform there the office of chancellor, and Edward Poynings, a knight of the golden spurs, with military forces and imperatorial power; and together he gave a diploma conferring authority upon him as his lieutenant in civil government.
In which clause it was that even the Earl of Kildare, then deputed as Deputy of Ireland, should obey him. But the rustic Irish (who had most delinquent) had, according to their custom, fled into the woods and marshes, and those in the pacified part of Ireland who were conscious to themselves of a similar crime withdrew to them. To such a degree that Poynings was compelled to undertake a certain erratic expedition against the errant Irish, in which, on account of mountains and forest-passes, he made little progress, which (whether from a certain suspicious melancholia because things turned out ill for him, or in order to vindicate his efforts from infamy) he absolutely wished to be imputed to the favor with which the Earl of Kildare was secretly favoring the rebels, every very slight suspicion finding place against him on account of that Earl of Kildare who had adhered to Lambert Simnel and had fallen in the Battle of Stoke.
Therefore he ordered the earl to be apprehended and given into custody, and sent him into England; who, when due examination had been made, so purged himself that he was restored to his former office of Deputy of Ireland. But Poynings (that he might compensate by acts of peace the scantiness of his merit in military affairs) convoked a parliament. In which a law was passed, that memorable one which even today is called Poynings’ Law, whereby it was sanctioned that all the statutes of England should likewise be received and have force in Ireland.
23. Circa hoc tempus coepit in rege notari inclinatio illa, quae postea a consiliariis et ministris pravis excitata et aucta macula plane facta est regiminis sui. Illa erat industria et artes pecunias a subditis suis emungendi per mulctas et forisfacturas ex legibus poenalibus, id quod hominum animos magis hoc tempore perculsit, quoniam facile erat cernere hoc in ingenio regis penitus insitum fuisse, cum nullae eum premerent rei pecuniariae angustiae, sed contra thesauro ubertim abundaret. Etenim pecunias a Gallo propter pacem nuper receperat, a subditis item eae, quae nomine benevolentiae collatae fuerant, solutae iam erant.
23. About this time there began to be noted in the king that inclination which, afterwards stirred up and augmented by depraved counselors and ministers, was plainly made a blot upon his government. It was the industry and arts of emunging money from his subjects by mulcts and forfeitures under penal laws; a thing which smote men’s minds the more at this season, because it was easy to discern that this was deeply insited in the king’s ingenium, when no pecuniary straits pressed him, but on the contrary the treasury abounded ubertly. For he had lately received moneys from the Frenchman on account of peace, and likewise from his subjects those which under the name of “benevolence” had been bestowed had already been paid.
To these there had accrued most ample casual revenues from the Stanley confiscation, besides other diverse profits. The first memorable case in this kind was that of William Capel, a gilded knight (knight) and alderman of the City of London, who, by the vigor of diverse penal laws, was mulcted to the sum of 2,700 pounds, and for 1,600 pounds compounded with the king. From this same Capel, however, long afterwards Empson strove to extort new monies, and would have done so, had not the king died at that very time.
24. Aestate sequente rex ut matrem suam consolaretur, quam semper unice dilexit et reveritus est, atque ut fidem apud omnes faceret severitatem contra Stanleium (quam imposuit ei necessitas et ratio status) nihil prorsus amori suo erga Thomam fratrem eius detraxisse, profectus est ad Lathamam, ut cum matre et comite hilares aliquos ageret dies, ibique moram nonnullam fecit.
24. The following summer the king, that he might console his mother, whom he always uniquely loved and revered, and that he might make it believed by all that the severity against Stanley (which necessity and reason of state imposed upon him) had in no way diminished his love for Thomas, his brother, set out to Latham, to spend some cheerful days with his mother and the earl, and there made some stay.