signed generals, the duke of Bedford, and the earl of Oxford, was come on his was towards them as far as Coventry, whence he sent forth a troop of light horsemen for discovery, and to intercept some stragglers of the enemies, by whom he might the better understand the particulars of their progress and purposes, which was accordingly done, though the king otherwise was not without intelligence from espials in the camp.

The rebels took their way toward York, without spoiling the country, or any act of hostility, the better to put themselves into favour of the people, and to personate their king: who, no doubt, out of a princely feeling, was sparing and compassionate towards his subjects: but their snow-ball did not gather as it went. For the people came not in to them; neither did any rise or declare themselves in other parts of the kingdom for them; which was caused partly by the good taste that the king had given his people of his government, joined with the reputation of his felicity; and partly for that it was an odious thing to the people of England, to have a king brought in to them upon the shoulders of Irish and Dutch, of which their army was in substance compounded. Neither was it a thing done with any great judgment on the party of the rebels, for them to take their way towards York: considering that howsoever those parts had formerly been a nursery of their friends; yet it was there, where the lord Lovel had so lately disbanded, and where the king's presence had a little before qualified discontents. The earl of Lincoln, deceived of his hopes of the countries concourse unto him, in which case he would have temporised, and seeing the business past retract, resolved to make on where the king was, and to give him battle; and thereupon marched towards Newark, thinking to have surprised the town. But the king was somewhat before this time come to Nottingham, where he called a council of war, at which was consulted whether it were best to protract time, or speedily to set upon the rebels. In which council the king himself, whose continual vigilancy did suck in sometimes causeless suspicions, which few else knew, inclined to the accelerating a bat

tle; but this was presently put out of doubt, by the great aids that came in to him in the instant of this consultation, partly upon missives, and partly voluntaries, from many parts of the kingdom.

The principal persons that came then to the king's aid,were the earl of Shrewsbury, and the lord Strange, of the nobility; and of knights and gentlemen, to the number of at least threescore and ten persons, with their companies, making in the whole, at the least, six thousand fighting men, besides the forces that were with the king before. Whereupon the king, finding his army so bravely reinforced, and a great alacrity in all his men to fight, was confirmed in his former resolution, and marched speedily, so as he put himself between the enemy's camp and Newark; being loth their army should get the commodity of that town. The earl, nothing dismayed, came forwards that day unto a little village called Stoke, and there encamped that night, upon the brow or hanging of a hill. The king the next day presented him battle upon the plain, the fields there being open and champaign. The earl courageously came down and joined battle with him. Concerning which battle the relations that are left unto us are so naked and negligent, though it be an action of so recent memory, as they rather declare the success of the day, than the manner of the fight. They say, that the king divided his army into three battails; whereof the vant-guard only, well strengthened with wings, came to fight that the fight was fierce and obstinate, and lasted three hours, before the victory inclined either way; save that judgment might be made by that the king's vant-guard of itself maintained fight against the whole power of the enemies, the other two battails remaining out of action, what the success was like to be-in the end: that Martin Swart with his Germans performed bravely, and so did those few English that were on that side; neither did the Irish fail in courage or fierceness; but being almost naked men, only armed with darts and skeins, it was rather an execution than a fight upon them; insomuch as the furious slaughter of them was a great discouragement and appalement tothe rest: that there died upon the place all the chieftains ;

that is, the earl of Lincoln, the earl of Kildare, Francis lord Lovel, Martin Swart, and Sir Thomas Broughton; all making good the fight, without any ground given. Only of the lord Lovel there went a report, that he fled, and swam over Trent on horseback, but could not recover the farther side, by reason of the steepness of the bank, and so was drowned in the river. But another report leaves him not there, but that he lived long after in a cave or vault. The number that was slain in the field, was of the enemy's part four thousand at the least; and of the king's part, one half of his vantguard, besides many hurt, but none of name. There were taken prisoners, amongst others, the counterfeit Plantagenet, now Lambert Simnell again, and the crafty priest his tutor. For Lambert, the king would not take his life, both out of magnanimity, taking him but as an image of wax, that others had tempered and moulded; and likewise out of wisdom, thinking that if he suffered death, he would be forgotten too soon; but being kept alive, he would be a continual spectacle, and a kind of remedy against the like enchantments of people in time to come. For which cause he was taken into service in his court to a base office in his kitchen; so that, in a kind of mattacina of human fortune, he turned a broach, that had worn a crown; whereas fortune commonly doth not bring in a comedy or farce after a tragedy. And afterward he was preferred to be one of the king's falconers. As to the priest, he was committed close prisoner, and heard of no more; the king loving to seal up his own dangers.

After the battle the king went to Lincoln, where he caused supplications and thanksgivings to be made for his deliverance and victory. And that his devotions might go round in circle, he sent his banner to be offered to our lady of Walsingham, where before he made his vows. And thus delivered of this so strange an engine, and new invention of fortune, he returned to his former confidence of mind; thinking now, that all his misfortunes had come at once. But it fell out unto him according to the speech of the common people in the beginning of his reign, that said, It was a token he should reign in labour, because his reign began with a

sickness of sweat. But howsoever the king thought himself now in a haven, yet such was his wisdom, as his confidence did seldom darken his foresight, especially in things near hand. And therefore, awakened by so fresh and unexpected dangers, he entered into due consideration, as well how to weed out the partakers of the former rebellion, as to kill the seeds of the like in time to come: and withal to take away all shelters and harbours for discontented persons, where they might hatch and foster rebellions, which afterward might gather strength and motion. And first, he did yet again make a progress from Lincoln to the northern parts, though it were indeed rather an itinerary circuit of justice than a progress. For all along as he went, with much severity and strict inquisition, partly by martial law, and partly by commission, were punished the adherents and aiders of the late rebels. Not all by death, for the field had drawn much blood, but by fines and ransoms, which spared life, and raised treasure. Amongst other crimes of this nature, there was diligent inquiry made of such as had raised and dispersed a bruit of rumour, a little before the field fought, "that the rebels had the day; and that the "king's army was overthrown, and the king fled." Whereby it was supposed that many succours, which otherwise would have come unto the king, were cunningly put off and kept back. Which charge and accusation, though it had some ground, yet it was industriously embraced and put on by divers, who having been in themselves not the best affected to the king's part, nor forward to come to his aid, were glad to apprehend this colour to cover their neglect and coldness, under the pretence of such discouragements. Which cunning nevertheless the king would not understand, though he lodged it, and noted it in some particulars, as his manner was.

But for the extirpating of the roots and causes of the like commotions in time to come, the king began to find where his shoe did ring him, and that it was his depressing of the house of York that did rankle and fester the affections of his people. And therefore being now too wise to disdain perils any longer, and willing

to give some contentment in that kind, at least in ceremony, he resolved at least to proceed to the coronation of his queen. And therefore at his coming to London, where he entered in state, and in a kind of triumph, and celebrated his victory with two days of devotion, for the first day he repaired to Paul's, and had the hymn of Te Deum sung, and the morrow after he went in procession, and heard the sermon at the cross, the queen was with great solemnity crowned at Westminster, the five-and-twentieth of November, in the third year of his reign, which was about two years after the marriage; like an old christening, that had stayed long for godfathers. Which strange and unusual distance of time made it subject to every man's note, that it was an act against his stomach, and put upon him by necessity and reason of state. Soon after, to shew that it was now fair weather again, and that the imprisonment of Thomas, marquis Dorset, was rather upon suspicion of the time, than of the man, he, the said marquis, was set at liberty, without examination or other circumstance. At that time also the king sent an ambassador unto pope Innocent, signifying unto him this his marriage; and that now, like another Æneas, he had passed through the floods of his former troubles and travels, and was arrived unto a safe haven; and thanking his holiness that he had honoured the celebration of his marriage with the presence of his ambassador; and offering both his person and the forces of his kingdom, upon all occasions, to do him service.

The ambassador making his oration to the pope, in the presence of the cardinals, did so magnify the king and queen, as was enough to glut the hearers. But then he did again so extol and deify the pope, as made all that he had said in praise of his master and mistress seem temperate and passable. But he was very honourably entertained, and extremely much made on by the pope: who knowing himself to be lazy and unprofitable to the Christian world, was wonderfully glad to hear that there were such echos of him sounding in remote parts. He obtained also of the pope a very just and