Northumberland, then attended upon the Lord Cardinal, and was also his
servitor; and when it chanced the Lord Cardinal at any time to repair
to the court, the Lord Percy would then resort for his pastime unto the
queen's chamber, and there would fall in dalliance among the queen's
maidens, being at the last more conversant with Mistress Anne Boleyn
than with any other; so that there grew such a secret love between
them that, at length, they were insured together[96], intending to
marry. The which thing came to the king's knowledge, who was then much
offended. Wherefore he could hide no longer his secret affection, but
revealed his secret intendment unto my Lord Cardinal in that behalf;
and consulted with him to infringe the precontract between them:
insomuch, that after my Lord Cardinal was departed from the court, and
returned home to his place at Westminster, not forgetting the king's
request and counsel, being in his gallery, called there before him
the said Lord Percy unto his presence, and before us his servants of
his chamber, saying thus unto him. "I marvel not a little," quoth he,
"of thy peevish folly, that thou wouldest tangle and ensure thyself
with a foolish girl yonder in the court, I mean Anne Boleyn. Dost
thou not consider the estate that God hath called thee unto in this
world? For after the death of thy noble father, thou art most like to
inherit and possess one of the most worthiest earldoms of this realm.
Therefore it had been most meet, and convenient for thee, to have sued
for the consent of thy father in that behalf, and to have also made
the king's highness privy thereto; requiring therein his princely
favour, submitting all thy whole proceeding in all such matters unto
his highness, who would not only accept thankfully your submission,
but would, I assure thee, provide so for your purpose therein, that he
would advance you much more nobly, and have matched you according to
your estate and honour, whereby ye might have grown so by your wisdom
and honourable behaviour into the king's high estimation, that it
should have been much to your increase of honour. But now behold what
ye have done through your wilfulness. Ye have not only offended your
natural father, but also your most gracious sovereign lord, and matched
yourself with one, such as neither the king, ne yet your father will
be agreeable with the matter. And hereof I put you out of doubt, that
I will send for your father, and at his coming, he shall either break
this unadvised contract, or else disinherit thee for ever. The king's
majesty himself will complain to thy father on thee, and require no
less at his hand than I have said; whose highness intended to have
preferred [Anne Boleyn] unto another person, with whom the king hath
travelled already, and being almost at a point with the same person,
although she knoweth it not, yet hath the king, most like a politic
and prudent prince, conveyed the matter in such sort, that she, upon
the king's motion, will be (I doubt not) right glad and agreeable to
the same." "Sir," (quoth the Lord Percy, all weeping), "I knew nothing
of the king's pleasure therein, for whose displeasure I am very sorry.
I considered that I was of good years, and thought myself sufficient
to provide me of a convenient wife, whereas my fancy served me best,
not doubting but that my lord my father would have been right well
persuaded. And though she be a simple maid, and having but a knight
to her father, yet is she descended of right noble parentage. As by
her mother she is nigh of the Norfolk blood: and of her father's side
lineally descended of the Earl of Ormond, he being one of the earl's
heirs general[97]. Why should I then, sir, be any thing scrupulous to
match with her, whose estate of descent is equivalent with mine when I
shall be in most dignity? Therefore I most humbly require your grace
of your especial favour herein; and also to entreat the king's most
royal majesty most lowly on my behalf for his princely benevolence in
this matter, the which I cannot deny or forsake." "Lo, sirs," quoth
the cardinal, "ye may see what conformity and wisdom is in this wilful
boy's head. I thought that when thou heardest me declare the king's
intended pleasure and travail herein, thou wouldest have relented and
wholly submitted thyself, and all thy wilful and unadvised fact, to
the king's royal will and prudent pleasure, to be fully disposed and
ordered by his grace's disposition, as his highness should seem good."
"Sir, so I would," quoth the Lord Percy, "but in this matter I have
gone so far, before many so worthy witnesses, that I know not how to
avoid my self nor to discharge my conscience." "Why, thinkest thou,"
quoth the cardinal, "that the king and I know not what we have to do
in as weighty a matter as this? Yes (quoth he), I warrant thee. Howbeit
I can see in thee no submission to the purpose." "Forsooth, my Lord,"
quoth the Lord Percy, "if it please your grace, I will submit myself
wholly unto the king's majesty and [your] grace in this matter, my
conscience being discharged of the weighty burthen of my precontract."
"Well then," quoth the cardinal, "I will send for your father out of
the north parts, and he and we shall take such order for the avoiding
of this thy hasty folly as shall be by the king thought most expedient.
And in the mean season I charge thee, and in the king's name command
thee, that thou presume not once to resort into her company, as thou
intendest to avoid the king's high indignation." And this said he rose
up and went into his chamber.
Then was the Earl of Northumberland sent for in all haste, in the
king's name, who upon knowledge of the king's pleasure made quick
speed to the court. And at his first coming out of the north he
made his first repair unto my Lord Cardinal, at whose mouth he was
advertised of the cause of his hasty sending for; being in my Lord
Cardinal's gallery with him in secret communication a long while. And
after their long talk my Lord Cardinal called for a cup of wine, and
drinking together they brake up, and so departed the earl, upon whom
we were commanded to wait to convey him to his servants. And in his
going away, when he came to the gallery's end, he sat him down upon a
form that stood there for the waiters some time to take their ease.
And being there set called his son the Lord Percy unto him, and said
in our presence thus in effect. "Son," quoth he, "thou hast always
been a proud, presumptuous, disdainful, and a very unthrift waster,
and even so hast thou now declared thyself. Therefore what joy, what
comfort, what pleasure or solace should I conceive in thee, that thus
without discretion and advisement hast misused thyself, having no
manner of regard to me thy natural father, ne in especial unto thy
sovereign lord, to whom all honest and loyal subjects bear faithful and
humble obedience; ne yet to the wealth of thine own estate, but hast
so unadvisedly ensured thyself to her, for whom thou hast purchased
thee the king's displeasure, intolerable for any subject to sustain!
But that his grace of his mere wisdom doth consider the lightness of
thy head, and wilful qualities of thy person, his displeasure and
indignation were sufficient to cast me and all my posterity into utter
subversion and dissolution: but he being my especial and singular good
lord and favourable prince, and my Lord Cardinal my good lord hath and
doth clearly excuse me in thy lewd fact, and doth rather lament thy
lightness than malign the same; and hath devised an order to be taken
for thee; to whom both thou and I be more bound than we be able well to
consider. I pray to God that this may be to thee a sufficient monition
and warning to use thyself more wittier hereafter; for thus I assure
thee, if thou dost not amend thy prodigality, thou wilt be the last
earl of our house. For of thy natural inclination thou art disposed
to be wasteful prodigal, and to consume all that thy progenitors have
with great travail gathered together and kept with honour. But having
the king's majesty my singular good and gracious lord, I intend (God
willing) so to dispose my succession, that ye shall consume thereof
but a little. For I do not purpose, I assure thee, to make thee mine
heir; for, praises be to God, I have more choice of boys who, I
trust, will prove themselves much better, and use them more like unto
nobility, among whom I will choose and take the best and most likeliest
to succeed me. Now, masters and good gentlemen," (quoth he unto us),
"it may be your chances hereafter, when I am dead, to see the proof
of these things that I have spoken to my son prove as true as I have
spoken them. Yet in the mean season I desire you all to be his friends,
and to tell him his fault when he doth amiss, wherein ye shall show
yourselves to be much his friends." And with that he took his leave of
us. And said to his son thus: "Go your ways, and attend upon my lord's
grace your master, and see that you do your duty." And so departed, and
went his way down through the hall into his barge.
Then after long debating and consultation upon the Lord Percy's
assurance, it was devised that the same should be infringed and
dissolved, and that the Lord Percy should marry with one of the Earl
of Shrewsbury's daughters[98]; (as he did after); by means whereof
the former contract was clearly undone. Wherewith Mistress Anne Boleyn
was greatly offended, saying, that if it lay ever in her power, she
would work the cardinal as much displeasure; as she did in deed after.
And yet was he nothing to blame, for he practised nothing in that
matter, but it was the king's only device. And even as my Lord Percy
was commanded to avoid her company, even so was she commanded to avoid
the court, and sent home again to her father for a season; whereat she
smoked[99]: for all this while she knew nothing of the king's intended
purpose.
But ye may see when fortune beginneth to lower, how she can compass a
matter to work displeasure by a far fetch. For now, mark, good reader,
the grudge, how it began, that in process [of time] burst out to the
utter undoing of the cardinal. O Lord, what a God art thou! that
workest thy secrets so wonderfully, which be not perceived until they
be brought to pass and finished. Mark this history following, good
reader, and note every circumstance, and thou shaft espy at thine eye
the wonderful work of God, against such persons as forgetteth God and
his great benefits! Mark, I say, mark them well!
After that all these troublesome matters of my Lord Percy's were
brought to a good stay, and all things finished that were before
devised, Mistress Anne Boleyn was revoked unto the court[100], where
she flourished after in great estimation and favour; having always a
privy indignation unto the cardinal, for breaking off the precontract
made between my Lord Percy and her, supposing that it had been his own
device and will, and none other, not yet being privy to the king's
secret mind, although that he had a great affection unto her. Howbeit,
after she knew the king's pleasure, and the great love that he bare
her in the bottom of his stomach, then she began to look very hault
and stout, having all manner of jewels, or rich apparel, that might be
gotten with money. It was therefore judged by-and-bye through all the
court of every man, that she being in such favour, might work masteries
with the king, and obtain any suit of him for her friend.
And all this while, she being in this estimation in all places, it
is no doubt but good Queen Katharine, having this gentlewoman daily
attending upon her, both heard by report, and perceived before her
eyes, the matter how it framed against her (good lady), although she
showed ne to Mistress Anne, ne unto the king, any spark or kind of
grudge or displeasure; but took and accepted all things in good part,
and with wisdom and great patience dissimuled the same, having Mistress
Anne in more estimation for the king's sake than she had before,
declaring herself thereby to be a perfect Griselda, as her patient acts
shall hereafter more evidently to all men be declared[101].
The king waxed so far in amours with this gentlewoman that he knew not
how much he might advance her. This perceiving, the great lords of the
council, bearing a secret grudge against the cardinal, because that
they could not rule in the scene well for him as they would, who kept
them low, and ruled them as well as other mean subjects, whereat they
caught an occasion to invent a mean to bring him out of the king's high
favour, and them into more authority of rule and civil governance.
After long and secret consultation amongst themselves, how to bring
their malice to effect against the cardinal, they knew right well that
it was very difficile for them to do any thing directly of themselves.
Wherefore, they perceiving the great affection that the king bare
lovingly unto Mistress Anne Boleyn, fantasying in their heads that
she should be for them a sufficient and an apt instrument to bring
their malicious purpose to pass, with her they often consulted in this
matter. And she having both a very good wit, and also an inward desire
to be revenged of the cardinal[102], was as agreeable to their requests
as they were themselves. Wherefore there was no more to do but only
to imagine some presented circumstances to induce their malicious
accusations. Insomuch that there was imagined and invented among them
diverse imaginations and subtle devices, how this matter should be
brought about. The enterprise thereof was so dangerous, that though
they would fain have often attempted the matter with the king, yet
they durst not; for they knew the great loving affection and especial
favour that the king bare to the cardinal, and also they feared the
wonderous wit of the cardinal. For this they understood very well,
that if their matter that they should propone against him were not
grounded upon a just and an urgent cause, the king's favour being such
towards him, and his wit such, that he would with policy vanquish all
their purpose and travail, and then lye in a-wait to work them an utter
destruction and subversion. Wherefore they were compelled, all things
considered, to forbear their enterprise until they might espy a more
convenient time and occasion.
And yet the cardinal, espying the great zeal that the king had
conceived in this gentlewoman, ordered himself to please as well the
king as her, dissimuling the matter that lay hid in his breast, and
prepared great banquets and solemn feasts to entertain them both at his
own house. And thus the world began to grow into wonderful inventions,
not heard of before in this realm. The love between the king and this
gorgeous lady grew to such a perfection, that divers imaginations were
imagined, whereof I leave to speak until I come to the place where I
may have more occasion.
Then began a certain grudge to arise between the French king and the
Duke of Bourbon, in so much as the Duke, being vassal to the house
of France, was constrained for the safeguard of his person to flee
his dominions, and to forsake his territory and country, doubting the
king's great malice and indignation. The cardinal, having thereof
intelligence, compassed in his head, that if the king our sovereign
lord (having an occasion of wars with the realm of France), might
retain the duke to be his general in the wars there: in as much as
the duke was fled unto the emperor, to invite him also, to stir wars
against the French king. The cardinal having all this imagination in
his head thought it good to move the king in this matter. And after
the king was once advertised hereof, and conceived the cardinal's
imagination and invention, he dreamed of this matter more and
more, until at the last it came in question among the council in
consultation, so that it was there finally concluded that an embassy
should be sent to the emperor about this matter; with whom it was
concluded that the king and the emperor should join in these wars
against the French king, and that the Duke of Bourbon should be our
sovereign lord's champion and general in the field; who had appointed
him a great number of good soldiers over and besides the emperor's
army, which was not small, and led by one of his own noblemen; and also
that the king should pay the duke his wages, and his retinue monthly.
In so much as Sir John Russel, (who was after Earl of Bedford), lay
continually beyond the seas in a secret place, assigned both for to
receive the king's money and to pay the same monthly to the duke.
So that the duke began fierce war with the French king in his own
territory and dukedom, which the French king had confiscated and seized
into his hands; yet not known to the duke's enemies that he had any
aid of the king our sovereign lord. And thus he wrought the French
king much trouble and displeasure; in so much as the French king was
compelled of fine force to put harness on his back, and to prepare a
puissant army royal, and in his own person to advance to defend and
resist the duke's power and malice. The duke having understanding
of the king's advancing was compelled of force to take Pavia, a
strong town in Italy, with his host, for their security; where as
the king besieged him, and encamped him wondrous strongly, intending
to enclose the Duke within this town, that he should not issue. Yet
notwithstanding the duke would and did many times issue and skirmish
with the king's army.
Now let us leave the king in his camp before Pavia, and return again
to the Lord Cardinal, who seemed to be more French than Imperial. But
how it came to pass I cannot declare [unto] you: but the [French] king
lying in his camp, sent secretly into England a privy person, a very
witty man, to entreat of a peace between him and the king our sovereign
lord, whose name was John Joachin[103]; he was kept as secret as might
be, that no man had intelligence of his repair; for he was no
Frenchman, but an Italian born, a man before of no estimation in
France, or known to be in favour with his master, but to be a merchant,
and for his subtle wit elected to entreat of such affairs as the king
had commanded him by embassy. This Joachin after his arrival here in
England was secretly conveyed unto the king's manor of Richmond, and
there remained until Whitsuntide, at which time the cardinal resorted
thither, and kept there the said feast very solemnly. In which season
my lord caused this Joachin divers times to dine with him, whose talk
and behaviour seemed to be witty, sober, and wondrous discreet. [He]
continued in England long after, until he had (as it seemed) brought
his purposed embassy to pass which he had in commission. For after
this there was sent out immediately a restraint unto Sir John Russell,
into those parts where he made his abiding beyond the seas, that he
should retain and keep back that month's wages still in his hands,
which should have been paid unto the Duke of Bourbon, until the king's
pleasure were to him further known; for want of which money at the day
appointed of payment, the duke and his retinue were greatly dismayed
and sore disappointed; and when they saw that their money was not
brought unto them as it was wont to be. And being in so dangerous a
case for want of victuals, which were wondrous scant and dear, there
were many imaginations what should be the cause of the let thereof.
Some said this, and some said they wist never what; so that they
mistrusted no thing less than the very cause thereof. In so much at the
last, what for want of victual and other necessaries which could not
be gotten within the town, the captains and soldiers began to grudge
and mutter; and at the last, for lack of victuals, were like all to
perish. They being in this extremity came before the Duke of Bourbon
their captain, and said, "Sir, we must be of very force and necessity
compelled to yield us in to the danger of our enemies; and better it
were for us so to do than here to starve like dogs." When the duke
heard the lamentations, and understood the extremities that they were
brought unto for lack of money, he said again unto them, "Sirs," quoth
he, "ye are both valiant men and of noble courage, who have served
here under me right worthily; and for your necessity, whereof I am
participant, I do not a little lament. (Howbeit) I shall desire you,
as ye are noble in hearts and courage, so to take patience for a day
or twain: and if succour come not then from the King of England, as I
doubt nothing that he will deceive us, I will well agree that we shall
all put ourselves and all our lives unto the mercy of our enemies;"
wherewith they were all agreeable. And expecting the coming of the
king's money the space of three days, (the which days passed), the
duke seeing no remedy called his noble men, and captains, and soldiers
before him, and all weeping said, "O ye noble captains and valiant men,
my gentle companions, I see no remedy in this necessity but either we
must yield us unto our enemies, or else famish. And to yield the town
and ourselves, I know not the mercy of our enemies. As for my part I
pass not of their cruelties, for I know very well I shall suffer most
cruel death if I come once into their hands. It is not for myself
therefore that I do lament, but it is for your sakes; it is for your
lives; it is also for the safeguard of your persons. For so that ye
might escape the danger of your enemies' hands, I would most gladly
suffer death. Therefore, good companions and noble soldiers, I shall
require you all, considering the dangerous misery and calamity that we
stand in at this present, to sell our lives most dearly rather than to
be murdered like beasts. If ye will follow my counsel we will take upon
us this night to give our enemies an assault in their camp, and by that
means we may either escape, or else give them an overthrow. And thus it
were better to die in the field like men, than to live in captivity
and misery as prisoners." To the which they all agreed. "Then," quoth
the duke, "Ye perceive that our enemy hath encamped us with a strong
camp, and that there is no way to enter but one, which is so planted
with great ordnance, and force of men, that it is not possible to enter
that way to fight with our enemies without great danger. And also,
ye see that now of late they have had small doubt of us, insomuch as
they have kept but slender watch. Therefore my policy and advice shall
be this: That about the dead time of the night, when our enemies be
most quiet at rest, there shall issue from us a number of the most
deliverest soldiers to assault their camp; who shall give the assault
right secretly, even directly against the entry of the camp, which is
almost invincible. Your fierce and sharp assault shall be to them in
the camp so doubtful, that they shall be compelled to turn the strength
of their entry that lyeth over against your assault, to beat you from
the assault. Then will I issue out at the postern, and come to the
place of their strength newly turned, and there, or they be ware, will
I enter and fight with them at the same place where their guns and
strength lay before, and so come to the rescue of you of the assault,
and winning their ordnance which they have turned, beat them with their
own pieces. And then we joining together in the field, I trust we
shall have a fair hand of them. This device pleased them wondrous well.
Then prepared they all that day for the purposed device, and kept them
secret and close, without any noise or shot of piece within the town,
which gave their enemies the less fear of any trouble that night, but
every man went to their rest within their tents and lodgings quietly,
nothing mistrusting that after ensued.
Then when all the king's host was at rest, the assailants issued out
of the town without any noise, according to the former appointment,
and gave a fierce and cruel assault at the place appointed; that they
within the camp had as much to do to defend it as was possible: and
even as the duke had before declared to his soldiers, they within
were compelled to turn their shot that lay at the entry against the
assailants. With that issued the duke, and with him about fifteen or
sixteen thousand men or more, and secretly in the night, his enemies
being not privy of his coming until he was entered the field. And at
his first entry he was master of all the ordnance that lay there, and
slew the gunners; and charged the said pieces and bent them against his
enemies, [of] whom he slew wondrously a great number. He cut down tents
and pavilions, and murdered them within them, or they wist of [his]
coming, suspecting nothing less than the duke's entry; so that he won
the field or ever the king could arise to the rescue: who was taken
in his lodging or ever he was armed. And when the duke had obtained
the field, and the French king taken prisoner, his men slain, and his
tents robbed and spoiled, which were wondrous rich. And in the spoil,
searching of the king's treasure in his coffers there was found among
them the league newly concluded between the King of England and the
French king, under the great seal of England; which once by [the duke]
perceived, he began to smell the impediment of his money which should
have come to him from the king. Having upon due search of this matter
further intelligence that all this matter and his utter undoing was
concluded and devised by the Cardinal of England, the duke conceived
such an indignation hereupon against the cardinal, that after he had
established all things there in good order and security, he went
incontinent unto Rome, intending there to sack the town, and to have
taken the pope prisoner: where, at his first assault of the walls,
he was the first man that was there slain. Yet, notwithstanding, his
captains continued there the assault, and in conclusion won the town,
and the pope fled unto Castle Angell, where he continued long after in
great calamity.
I have written thus this history at large because it was thought that
the cardinal gave the chief occasion of all this mischief[104]. Ye may
perceive what thing soever a man purposeth, be he prince or prelate,
yet notwithstanding God disposeth all things at his will and pleasure.
Wherefore it is great folly for any wise man to take any weighty
enterprise of himself, trusting altogether to his own wit, not calling
for grace to assist him in all his proceedings.