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garrisons there, and she received only a pension | between Ferdinando, King of Arragon, and or exhibition out of his coffers.
Philip, his son-in-law, King of Castile; resolving with himself to do all that in him lay, to keep them at one within themselves; but howsoever they succeeded, by a moderate carriage, and hearing the person of a common friend, to lose neither of their friendships; but yet to run a course more entire with the King of Arragon, but more laboured and officious with the King of Castile. But he was much taken with the overture of marriage with his daughter Mary; both because it was the greatest marriage of Chris
The other part of the inquiry had a grave and diligent return, informing the king at full of the present state of King Ferdinando. By this report it appeared to the king, that Ferdinando did continue the government of Castile, as administrator unto his daughter Joan, by the title of Queen Isabella's will, and partly by the custom of the kingdom, as he pretended. And that all mandates and grants were expediated in the name of Joan his daughter, and himself as administrator, without mention of Philip her hus-tendom, and for that it took hold of both allies. band. And that King Ferdinando, howsoever he did dismiss himself of the name of King of Castile, yet meant to hold the kingdom without account, and in absolute command.
But to corroborate his alliance with Philip, the winds gave him an interview: for Philip choosing the winter season, the better to surprise the King of Arragon, set forth with a great navy out of It appeareth also, that he flattered himself with | Flanders for Spain, in the month of January, the hopes, that King Philip would permit unto him | one-and-twentieth year of the king's reign. But the government of Castile during his life; which he had laid his plot to work him unto, both by some counsellors of his about him, which Ferdinando had at his devotion, and chiefly by promise, that in case Philip gave not way unto it, he would marry some young lady, whereby to put him by the succession of Arragon and Granada, in case he should have a son; and lastly, by representing unto him that the government of the Burgundians, till Philip were by continuance in Spain made as natural of Spain, would not be endured by the Spaniards. But in all those things, though wisely laid down and considered, Ferdinando failed; but that Pluto was better to him than Pallas.
In the same report also, the ambassadors being mean men, and therefore the more free, did strike upon a string which was somewhat dangerous; for they declared plainly, that the people of Spain, both nobles and commons, were better affected unto the part of Philip, so he brought his wife with him, than to Ferdinando; and expressed the reason to be, because he had imposed upon them many taxes and tallages: which was the king's own case between him and his son.
There was also in this report a declaration of an overture of marriage, which Amason, the secretary of Ferdinando, had made unto the ambassadors in great secret, between Charles, Prince of Castile, and Mary, the king's second daughter; assuring the king, that the treaty of marriage then on foot for the said prince and the daughter of France, would break; and that she, the said daughter of France should be married to Angoesme, that was the heir apparent of France.
There was a touch also of a speech of marriage between Ferdinando and Madame de Fois, a lady of the blood of France, which afterwards indeed succeeded. But this was reported as learned in France, and silenced in Spain.
The king, by the return of this embassage, which gave great light unto his affairs, was well instructed, and prepared how to carry himself
himself was surprised with a cruel tempest, that scattered his ships upon the several coasts of England. And the ship wherein the king and queen. were, with two other small barks only, torn and in great peril, to escape the fury of the weather thrust into Weymouth. King Philip himself, having not been used, as it seems, to sea, all wearied and extreme sick, would needs land to refresh his spirits, though it was against the opinion of his council, doubting it might breed delay, his occasions requiring celerity.
The rumour of the arrival of a puissant navy upon the coast made the country arm. And Sir Thomas Trenchard, with forces suddenly raised, not knowing what the matter might be, came to Weymouth; where, understanding the accident, he did in all humbleness and humanity invite the king and queen to his house; and forthwith despatched posts to the court. Soon after came Sir John Carew likewise, with a great troop of men well armed: using the like humbleness and respects towards the king, when he knew the case. King Philip doubting that they, being but subjects, durst not let him pass away again without the king's notice and leave, yielded to their entreaties to stay till they heard from the court. The king, as soon as he heard the news, commanded presently the Earl of Arundel to go to visit the King of Castile, and let him understand that as he was very sorry for his mishap, so he was glad that he had escaped the danger of the seas, and likewise of the occasion himself had to do him honour; and | desiring him to think himself as in his own land; and that the king made all haste possible to come and embrace him. The earl came to him in great magnificence, with a brave troop of three hundred horse; and, for more state, came by torch-light. After he had done the king's message, King Philip seeing how the world went, the sooner to get away, went upon speed to the king at Windsor, and his queen followed by easy journeys. The two kings at their meeting used all the caresses
There were immediately messengers sent from both kings to recall the Earl of Suffolk; who upon gentle words used to him, was soon charın
life, and hoping of his liberty. He was brought through Flanders to Calais, and thence landed at Dover, and with sufficient guard delivered and received at the Tower of London. Meanwhile, King Henry, to draw out the time, continued his
ceived the King of Castile into the fraternity of the Garter, and for a reciprocal had his son, the prince, admitted to the order of the Golden Fleece, he accompanied King Philip and his queen to the city of London, where they were entertained with the greatest magnificence and triumph that could be upon no greater warning. And as soon as the Earl of Suffolk had been conveyed to the Tower, which was the serious part, the jollities had an end, and the kings took leave. Nevertheless, during their being here, they in substance concluded that treaty, which the Flemings term "intercursus malus," and bears date at Windsor; for that there be some things in it, more to the advantage of the English than of them; especially, for that the free-fishing of the Dutch upon the coasts and seas of England granted in the treaty of "undecimo," was not by this treaty confirmed. All articles that confirm former treaties being precisely and warily limited and confirmed to matter of commerce only, and not otherwise.
and loving demonstrations that were possible. | counsel of his father-in-law Ferdinando; a prince And the King of Castile said pleasantly to the so prudent, so experienced, so fortunate. The King king, "That he was now punished for that he of Castile, who was in no very good terms with would not come within his walled town of Calais, his said father-in-law, answered, "That if his when they met last." But the king answered, father-in-law would suffer him to govern his “That walls and seas were nothing where hearts kingdoms, he should govern him." were open; and that he was here no otherwise but to be served." After a day or two's refreshing, the kings entered into speech of renewing the treaty; the king saying, that though King Philip's | ed, and willing enough to return; assured of his person were the same, yet his fortunes and state were raised in which case a renovation of treaty was used amongst princes. But while these things were in handling, the king choosing a fit time, and drawing the King of Castile into a room, where they two only were private, and lay-feastings and entertainments, and after he had reing his hand civilly upon his arm, and changing his countenance a little from a countenance of entertainment, said to him, "Sir, you have been saved upon my coast, I hope you will not suffer me to wreck upon yours." The King of Castile asked him what he meant by that speech? "I mean it," saith the king, "by that same harebrain wild fellow, my subject, the Earl of Suffolk, who is protected in your country, and begins to play the fool, when all others are weary of it." The King of Castile answered, "I had thought, sir, your felicity had been above those thoughts; but if it trouble you, I will banish him." The king replied, "Those hornets were best in their nest, and worst when they did fly abroad; and that his desire was to have him delivered to him." The King of Castile, herewith a little confused, and in a study, said, "That can I not do with my honour, and less with yours; for you will be thought to have used me as a prisoner." The king presently said, "Then the matter is at end, for I will take that dishonour upon me, and so your honour is saved." The King of Castile, who had the king in great estimation, and besides remembered where he was, and knew not what use he might have of the king's amity, for that himself was new in his estate of Spain, and unsettled both with his father-in-law and with his people, composing his countenance, said, "Sir, you give law to me, but so will I to you. You shall have him, but, upon your honour, you shall not take his life.” The king embracing him said, “Agreed.”| Saith the King of Castile, "Neither shall it dislike you, if I send to him in such a fashion, as he may partly come with his own good will." The king said, "It was well thought of; and if it pleased him, he would join with him, in sending to the earl a message to that purpose." They both sent severally, and mean while they continued feasting and pastimes. The king being, on his part, willing to have the earl sure before the King of Castile went; and the King of Castile being as willing to seem to be enforced. The king also, with many wise and excellent persuasions, did advise the King of Castile to be ruled by the
It was observed, that the great tempest which drove Philip into England, blew down the golden eagle from the spire of Paul's, and in the fall it fell upon a sign of the black eagle, which was in Paul's church-yard, in the place where the schoolhouse now standeth, and battered it, and brake it down: which was a strange stooping of a hawk upon a fowl. This the people interpreted to be an ominous prognostic upon the imperial house, which was, by interpretation also, fulfilled upon Philip, the emperor's son, not only in the present disaster of the tempest, but in that that followed. For Philip arriving into Spain, and attaining the possession of the kingdom of Castile without resistance, insomuch as Ferdinando, who had spoke so great before, was with difficulty admitted to the speech of his son-in-law, sickened soon after, and deceased. Yet after such time, as there was an observation by the wisest of that court, that if he had lived, his father would have gained upon him in that sort, as he would have governed his councils and designs, if not his affections. Br this all Spain returned into the power of Ferdi
nando in state as it was before: the rather, in re- | vernment of Castilia, as administrator during the gard of the infirmity of Joan his daughter, who, loving her husband, by whom she had many children, dearly well, and no less beloved of him, howsoever her father, to make Philip ill-beloved of the people of Spain, gave out that Philip used her not well, was unable in strength of mind to bear the grief of his decease, and fell distracted of her wits. Of which malady her father was thought noways to endeavour the cure, the better to hold his regal power in Castile. So that as the felicity of Charles the Eighth was said to be a dream; so the adversity of Ferdinando was said likewise to be a dream, it passed over so soon.
minority of his son-in-law; as if there should have been a competition of three for that government; Ferdinando, grandfather on the mother's side; Maximilian, grandfather on the father's side; and King Henry, father-in-law to the young prince. Certainly it is not unlike, but the king's government, carrying the young prince with him, would have been perhaps more welcome to the Spaniards than that of the other two. For the nobility of Castilia, that so lately put out the King of Arragon in favour of King Philip, and had discovered themselves so far, could not be but in a secret distrust and distaste of that king. And as for Maximilian, upon twenty respects he could not have been the man. But this purpose of the king's seemeth to me, considering the king's safe courses, never found to be enterprising or adventurous, not greatly probable, except he should have had a desire to breathe warmer, because he had ill lungs. This marriage with Margaret was
About this time the king was desirous to bring into the house of Lancaster celestial honour, and became suitor to Pope Julius, to canonize King Henry the Sixth for a saint, the rather, in respect of that his famous prediction of the king's own assumption to the crown. Julius referred the matter, as the manner is, to certain cardinals, to take the verification of his holy acts and miracles:protracted from time to time, in respect of the infirbut it died under the reference. The general opinion was, that Pope Julius was too dear, and that the king would not come to his rates. But it is more probable, that the pope, who was extremely jealous of the dignity of the see of Rome, and of the acts thereof, knowing that King Henry the Sixth was reputed in the world abroad but for a simple man, was afraid it would but diminish the estimation of that kind of honour, if there were not a distance kept between innocents and saints. The same year likewise there proceeded a treaty of marriage between the king and the Lady Margaret, Duchess-dowager of Savoy, only daughter to Maximilian, and sister to the King of Castile; a lady wise, and of great good fame. This matter had been in speech between the two kings at their meeting, but was soon after resumed; and therein was employed for his first piece the king's then chaplain, and after the great prelate, Thomas Wolsey. It was in the end concluded, with great and ample conditions for the king, but with promise de futuro only. It may be the king was the rather induced unto it, for that he had heard more and more of the marriage to go on between his great friend and ally Ferdinando of Arragon, and Ma- | Nevertheless Empson and Dudley, though they dame de Fois, whereby that king began to piece could not but hear of these scruples in the king's with the French king, from whom he had been conscience; yet, as if the king's soul and his always before severed. So fatal a thing it is, for money were in several offices, that the one was not the greatest and straitest amities of kings at one to intermeddle with the other, went on with as great time or other, to have a little of the wheel; nay, rage as ever. For the same three-and-twentieth there is a farther tradition in Spain, though not year was there a sharp prosecution against Sir with us, that the King of Arragon, after he knew William Capel, now the second time: and this that the marriage between Charles, Prince of was for matters of misgovernment in his mayorCastile, and Mary, the king's second daughter, alty: the great matter being, that in some paywent roundly on, (which though it was first moved ments he had taken knowledge of false moneys, by the King of Arragon, yet it was afterwards and did not his diligence to examine and beat it wholly advanced and brought to perfection by out who were the offenders. For this and some Maximilian, and the friends on that side,) entered other things laid to his charge, he was condemned into a jealousy that the king did aspire to the go-to pay two thousand pounds; and being a man
mity of the king, who now in the two-and-twentieth of his reign began to be troubled with the gout: but the defluxion taking also into his breast, wasted his lungs, so that thrice in a year, in a kind of return, and especially in the spring, he had great fits and labour of the phthisic: nevertheless, he continued to intend business with as great diligence as before in his health: yet so, as upon this warning he did likewise now more seriously think of the world to come, and of making himself a saint, as well as King Henry the Sixth, by treasure better employed, than to be given to Pope Julius; for this year he gave greater alms than accustomed, and discharged all prisoners. about the city, that lay for fees or debts under forty shillings. He did also make haste with religious foundations; and in the year following, which was the three-and-twentieth, finished that of the Savoy. And hearing also of the bitter cries of his people against the oppression of Dudley and Empson, and their complices: partly by devout persons about him, and partly by public sermons, the preachers doing their duty therein, he was touched with great remorse for the same.
of stomach, and hardened by his former troubles, refused to pay a mite; and belike used some untoward speeches of the proceedings, for which he was sent to the Tower, and there remained till the king's death. Knesworth likewise, that had been lately Mayor of London, and both his sheriffs, were for abuses in their offices questioned, and imprisoned, and delivered upon one thousand four hundred pounds paid. Hawis, an alderman of London, was put in trouble, and died with thought and anguish before his business came to an end. Sir Lawrence Ailmer, who had likewise been Mayor of London, and his two sheriffs, were put to the fine of one thousand pounds. And Sir Lawrence, for refusing to make payment, was committed to prison, where he stayed till Empson himself was committed in his place.
It is no marvel, if the faults were so light, and the rates so heavy, that the king's treasure of store, that he left at his death, most of it in secret places, under his own key and keeping, at Richmond, amounted, as by tradition it is reported to have done, unto the sum of near eighteen hundred thousand pounds sterling; a huge mass of money even for those times.
The last act of state that concluded this king's temporal felicity, was the conclusion of a glorious match between his daughter Mary, and Charles, Prince of Castile, afterwards the great emperor, both being of tender years: which treaty was perfected by Bishop Fox, and other his commissioners at Calais, the year before the king's death. In which alliance, it seemeth, he himself took so high contentment, as in a letter which he wrote thereupon to the city of London, commanding all possible demonstrations of joy to be made for the same, he expressed himself, as if he thought he had built a wall of brass about his kingdom: when he had for his sons-in-law, a king of Scotland, and a prince of Castile and Burgundy. So as now there was nothing to be added to this great king's felicity, being at the top of all worldly bliss, in regard of the high marriages of his children, his great renown throughout Europe, and his scarce credible riches, and the perpetual constancy of his prosperous successes, but an opportune death, to withdraw him from any future blow of fortune; which certainly (in regard of the great hatred of his people, and the title of his son, being then come to eighteen years of age, and being a bold prince and liberal, and that gained upon the people, by his very aspect and presence) had not been impossible to have come upon him. To crown also the last year of his reign, as well as his first, he did an act of piety, rare, and worthy to be taken into imitation. For he granted forth a general pardon: as expecting a second coronation in a better kingdom. He did also declare in his will, that his mind was, that restitution should be made of those sums which had been unjustly taken by his officers.
And thus this Solomon of England, for Solomon also was too heavy upon his people in exactions, having lived two-and-fifty years, and thereof reigned three-and-twenty years, and eight months, being in perfect memory, and in a most blessed mind, in a great calm of a consuming sickness, passed to a better world, the two-and-twentieth of April, 1508, at his palace of Richmond, which he himself had built.
This king, to speak of him in terms equal to his deserving, was one of the best sort of wonders; a wonder for wise men. He had parts, both in his virtues and his fortune, not so fit for a commonplace, as for observation. Certainly he was religious, both in his affection and observance. But as he could see clear, for those times, through superstition, so he would be blinded, now and then, by human policy. He advanced churchmen: he was tender in the privilege of sanctuaries, though they wrought him much mischief. He built and endowed many religious foundations, besides his memorable hospital of the Savoy: and yet was he a great alms-giver in secret; which showed, that his works in public were dedicated rather to God's glory than his own. He professed always to love and seek peace; and it was his usual preface in his treaties, that when Christ came into the world peace was sung; and when he went out of the world peace was bequeathed. And this virtue could not proceed out of fear or softness: for he was valiant and active, and therefore, no doubt, it was truly Christian and moral. Yet he knew the way to peace was not to seem to be desirous to avoid wars; therefore would he make offers and fames of wars, till he had mended the conditions of peace. It was also much, that one that was so great a lover of peace, should be so happy in war. For his arms, either in foreign or civil wars, were never unfortunate; neither did he know what a disaster meant. The war of his coming in, and the rebellions of the Earl of Lincoln, and the Lord Audley, were ended by victory. The wars of France and Scotland, by peaces sought at his hands. That of Britain, by accident of the duke's death. The insurrection of, the Lord Lovel, and that of Perkin at Exeter, and in Kent, by flight of the rebels before they came to blows. So that his fortune of arms was still inviolate; the rather sure, for that in the quenching of the commotions of his subjects, he ever went in person: sometimes reserving himself to back and second his lieutenants, but ever in action; and yet that was not merely forwardness, but partly distrust of others.
He did much maintain and countenance his laws; which, nevertheless, was no impediment to him to work his will: for it was so handled, that neither prerogative nor profit went to diminution. And yet as he would sometimes strain up his laws to his prerogative, so would he also
He was of a high mind, and loved his own will, and his own way; as one that revered himself, and would reign indeed. Had he been a
But in a wise prince, it was but keeping of distance, which indeed he did towards all; not admitting any near or full approach, either to his power, or to his secrets, for he was governed by none. His queen, notwithstanding she had presented him with divers children, and with a crown also, though he would not acknowledge it, could do nothing with him. His mother he reverenced much, heard little. For any person agreeable to him for society, such as was Hastings to King Edward the Fourth, or Charles Brandon after to King Henry the Eighth, he had none: except we should account for such persons, Fox, and Bray, and Empson, because they were so much with him: but it was but as the instrument is much with the workman. He had nothing in him of vainglory, but yet kept state and majesty to the height; being sensible, that majesty maketh the people bow, but vainglory boweth to them.
let down his prerogative to his parliament. For | nearest the truth, that fetch not their reasons so mint, and wars, and martial discipline, things of far off: but rather impute it to nature, age, peace, absolute power, he would nevertheless bring to and a mind fixed upon no other ambition or purparliament. Justice was well administered in suit. Whereunto I should add, that having every his time, save where the king was party: save day occasion to take notice of the necessities and also, that the council-table intermeddled too much shifts for money of other great princes abroad, it with "meum" and "tuum." For it was a very did the better, by comparison, set off to him the court of justice during his time, especially in the | felicity of full coffers. As to his expending of beginning; but in that part both of justice and treasure, he never spared charge which his affairs policy, which is the durable part, and cut, as it required: and in his buildings was magnificent, were, in brass or marble, which is the making of but his rewards were very limited so that his good laws, he did excel. And with his justice, liberality was rather upon his own state and he was also a merciful prince: as in whose time, memory, than upon the deserts of others. there were but three of the nobility that suffered; the Earl of Warwick, the lord chamberlain, and the Lord Audley: though the first two were instead of numbers, in the dislike and obloquy | private man, he would have been termed proud. of the people. But there were never so great rebellions, expiated with so little blood, drawn by the hand of justice, as the two rebellions of Blackheath and Exeter. As for the severity used upon those which were taken in Kent, it was but upon a scum of people. His pardons went ever both before and after his sword. But then he had withal a strange kind of interchanging of large and unexpected pardons, with severe executions; which, his wisdom considered, could not be imputed to any inconstancy or inequality; but either to some reason which we do not now know, or to a principle he had set unto himself, that he would vary, and try both ways in turn. But the less blood he drew, the more he took of treasure. And, as some construed it, he was the more sparing in the one, that he might be the more pressing in the other; for both would have been intolerable. Of nature assuredly he coveted to accumulate treasure, and was a little poor in To his confederates abroad he was constant admiring riches. The people, into whom there is and just, but not open. But rather such was his infused, for the preservation of monarchies, a inquiry, and such his closeness, as they stood in natural desire to discharge their princes, though it the light towards him, and he stood in the dark be with the unjust charge of their counsellors and to them. Yet without strangeness, but with a ministers, did impute this unto Cardinal Morton semblance of mutual communication of affairs. and Sir Reginald Bray, who, as it after appeared, As for little envies, or emulations upon foreign as counsellors of ancient authority with him, did princes, which are frequent with many kings, he so second his humours, as nevertheless they did had never any: but went substantially to his own temper them. Whereas Empson and Dudley business. Certain it is, that though his reputathat followed, being persons that had no reputation was great at home, yet it was greater abroad. tion with him, otherwise than by the servile following of his bent, did not give way only, as the first did, but shape him way to those extremities, for which himself was touched with remorse at his death, and which his successor renounced, and sought to purge. This excess of his had at that time many glosses and interpretations. Some thought the continual rebellions wherewith he had been vexed, had made him grow to hate his people: some thought it was done to pull down their stomachs, and to keep them low: some, for that he would leave his son a golden fleece: some suspected he had some high design upon foreign parts: but those perhaps shall come
For foreigners that could not see the passages of affairs, but made their judgments upon the issues. of them, noted that he was ever in strife, and ever aloft. It grew also from the airs which the princes and states abroad received from their ambassadors and agents here; which were attending the court in great number: whom he did not only content with courtesy, reward, and privateness: but, upon such conferences as passed with them, put them in admiration, to find his universal insight into the affairs of the world: which though he did suck chiefly from themselves, yet that which he had gathered from them all, seemed admirable to every one. So that they