Here I must declare to you a notable tale of communication which was

done at Master Fitzwilliams before his departure from thence, between

[my lord] and me, the which was this: Sir, my lord being in the

garden at Master Fitzwilliams, walking, saying of his evensong with

his chaplain, I being there giving attendance upon him, his evensong

finished, [he] commanded his chaplain that bare up the train of his

gown whilst he walked, to deliver me the same, and to go aside when he

had done; and after the chaplain was gone a good distance, he said unto

me in this wise, "Ye have been late at London," quoth he; "Forsooth,

my lord," quoth I, "not since that I was there to buy your liveries

for your servants." "And what news was there then," quoth he; "heard

you no communication there of me? I pray you tell me." Then perceiving

that I had a good occasion to talk my mind plainly unto him, [I] said,

"Sir, if it please your grace, it was my chance to be at a dinner in

a certain place within the city, where I, among divers other honest

and worshipful gentlemen happed to sit, which were for the most part

of my old familiar acquaintance, wherefore they were the more bolder

to enter in communication with me, understanding that I was still your

grace's servant; [they] asked me a question, which I could not well

assoil them." "What was that?" quoth my lord. "Forsooth, sir," quoth I,

"first they asked me how ye did, and how ye accepted your adversity,

and trouble, and the loss of your goods; to the which I answered, that

you were in health (thanks be to God), and took all things in good

part; and so it seemed me, that they were all your indifferent friends

lamenting your decay, and loss of your room and goods, doubting much

that the sequel thereof could not be good in the commonwealth. For

often changing of such officers which be fat fed, into the hands of

such as be lean and hungry for riches, [they] will sure travail by

all means to get abundance, and so the poor commons be pillaged and

extorted for greedy lucre of riches and treasure: they said that ye

were full fed, and intended now much to the advancement of the king's

honour and the commonwealth. Also they marvelled much that ye, being

of so excellent a wit and high discretion, would so simply confess

yourself guilty in the premunire, wherein ye might full well have stood

in the trial of your case. For they understood, by the report of some

of the king's learned counsel, that your case well considered, ye had

great wrong: to the which I could make, as me thought, no sufficient

answer, but said, "That I doubt not your so doing was upon some greater

consideration than my wit could understand." "Is this," quoth he,

"the opinion of wise men?" "Yea, forsooth, my lord," quoth I, "and

almost of all other men." "Well, then," quoth he, "I see that their

wisdoms perceive not the ground of the matter that moved me so to do.

For I considered, that my enemies had brought the matter so to pass

against me, and conveyed it so, that they made it the king's case, and

caused the king to take the matter into his own hands and quarrel, and

after that he had upon the occasion thereof seized all my goods and

possessions into his demayns, and then the quarrel to be his, rather

than yield, or take a foil in the law, and thereby restore to me all

my goods again, he would sooner (by the procurement of my enemies and

evil willers) imagine my utter undoing and destruction; whereof the

most ease therein had been for me perpetual imprisonment. And rather

than I would jeopard so far, or put my life in any such hazard, yet had

I most liefest to yield and confess the matter, committing the sole

sum thereof, as I did, unto the king's clemency and mercy, and live

at large, like a poor vicar, than to lie in prison with all the goods

and honours that I had. And therefore it was the most best way for me,

all things considered, to do as I have done, than to stand in trial

with the king, for he would have been loath to have been noted a wrong

doer, and in my submission, the king, I doubt not, had a great remorse

of conscience, wherein he would rather pity me than malign me. And

also there was a continual serpentine enemy about the king that would,

I am well assured, if I had been found stiff necked, [have] called

continually upon the king in his ear (I mean the night-crow) with

such a vehemency that I should with the help of her assistance [have]

obtained sooner the king's indignation than his lawful favour: and his

favour once lost (which I trust at this present I have) would never

have been by me recovered. Therefore I thought it better for me to keep

still his loving favour, with loss of my goods and dignities, than

to win my goods and substance with the loss of his love and princely

favour, which is but only death: _Quia indignatio principis mors est_.

And this was the special ground and cause that I yielded myself guilty

in the _premunire_; which I perceive all men knew not, wherein since I

understand the king hath conceived a certain prick of conscience; who

took to himself the matter more grievous in his secret stomach than all

men knew, for he knew whether I did offend him therein so grievously

as it was made or no, to whose conscience I do commit my cause, truth,

and equity." And thus we left the substance of all this communication;

although we had much more talk: yet is this sufficient to cause you to

understand as well the cause of his confession in his offence, as also

the cause of the loss of all his goods and treasure.

Now let us return where we left, my lord being in the castle of Newark,

intending to ride to Southwell, which was four miles from thence, took

now his journey thitherward against supper. Where he was fain for lack

of reparation of the bishop's place, which appertained to the see of

York, to be lodged in a prebendary's house against the said place, and

there kept house until Whitsuntide next, against which time he removed

into the place, newly amended and repaired, and there continued the

most part of the summer, surely not without great resort of the most

worshipfullest gentlemen of the country, and divers other, of whom they

were most gladly entertained, and had of him the best cheer he could

devise for them, whose gentle and familiar behaviour with them caused

him to be greatly beloved and esteemed through the whole country.

He kept a noble house, and plenty of both meat and drink for all

comers, both for rich and poor, and much alms given at his gates. He

used much charity and pity among his poor tenants and other; although

the fame thereof was no pleasant sound in the ears of his enemies, and

of such as bare him no good will, howbeit the common people will report

as they find cause; for he was much more familiar among all persons

than he was accustomed, and most gladdest when he had an occasion to

do them good. He made many agreements and concords between gentleman

and gentleman, and between some gentlemen and their wives that had

been long asunder, and in great trouble, and divers other agreements

between other persons; making great assemblies for the same purpose,

and feasting of them, not sparing for any costs, where he might make a

peace and amity; which purchased him much love[179] and friendship in

the country.

It chanced that upon Corpus Christi eve, after supper, [my lord]

commanded me to prepare all things for him in a readiness against the

next day, for he intended to sing high mass in the minster that day;

and I, not forgetting his commandments, gave like warning to all his

officers of his house, and other of my fellows, to foresee that all

things appertaining to their rooms were fully furnished to my lord's

honour. This done I went to my bed, where I was scantly asleep and

warm, but that one of the porters came to my chamber door, calling

upon me, and said, there was two gentlemen at the gate that would

gladly speak with my lord from the king. With that I arose up and went

incontinent unto the gate with the porter, demanding what they were

that so fain [would] come in. They said unto me, that there was Master

Brereton, one of the gentlemen of the king's privy chamber, and Master

Wrotherly, who were come from the king empost, to speak with my lord.

Then having understanding what they were, I caused the porter to let

them in. And after their entry they desired me to speak with my lord

without delay, for they might not tarry; at whose request I repaired to

my lord's chamber, and waked him, who was asleep. But when he heard me

speak, he demanded of me what I would have. "Sir," quoth I, "there be

beneath in the porter's lodge, Master Brereton, gentleman of the king's

privy chamber, and Master Wrotherly, come from the king to speak with

you: they will not tarry; therefore they beseech your grace to speak

with you out of hand." "Well then," quoth my lord, "bid them come up

into my dining chamber, and I will prepare myself to come to them."

Then I resorted to them again, and showed them that my lord desired

them to come up unto him, and he would talk with them, with a right

good will. They thanked me, and went with me unto my lord, and as soon

as they perceived him, being in his night apparel, did to him humble

reverence; whom he took by the hands, demanding of them, how the king

his sovereign lord did. "Sir," said they, "right well in health and

merry, thanks be unto our Lord." "Sir," quoth they, "we must desire

you to talk with you apart." "With a right good will," quoth my lord,

who drew them aside into a great window, and there talked with them

secretly; and after long talk they took out of a male a certain coffer

covered with green velvet, and bound with bars of silver and gilt, with

a lock of the same, having a key which was gilt, with the which they

opened the same chest; out of the which they took a certain instrument

or writing, containing more than one skin of parchment, having many

great seals hanging at it, whereunto they put more wax for my lord's

seal; the which my lord sealed with his own seal, and subscribed his

name to the same; and that done they would needs depart, and (forasmuch

as it was after midnight) my lord desired them to tarry, and take a

bed. They thanked him, and said they might in no wise tarry, for they

would with all speed to the Earl of Shrewsbury's directly without let,

because they would be there or ever he stirred in the morning. And

my lord, perceiving their hasty speed, caused them to eat such cold

meat as there was in store within the house, and to drink a cup or

two of wine. And that done, he gave each of them four old sovereigns

of gold, desiring them to take it _in gree_, saying, that if he had

been of greater ability, their reward should have been better; and so

taking their leave they departed. And after they were departed, as I

heard say, they were not contented with their reward. Indeed they were

not none of his indifferent friends, which caused them to accept it

so disdainously. Howbeit, if they knew what little store of money he

had at that present, they would I am sure, being but his indifferent

friends, have given him hearty thanks: but nothing is more lost or cast

away than is such things which be given to such ingrate persons. My

lord went again to bed; and yet, all his watch and disturbance that he

had that night notwithstanding, he sang High Mass the next day as he

appointed before. There was none in all his house [besides myself and

the porter] that knew of the coming or going of these two gentlemen;

and yet there lay within the house many worshipful strangers.

After this sort and manner my lord continued at Southwell, until the

latter end of grease time; at which time he intended to remove to

Scroby, which was another house of the Bishoprick of York. And against

the day of his removing, he caused all his officers to prepare, as well

for provision to be made for him there, as also for carriage of his

stuff, and other matters concerning his estate. His removing and intent

was not so secret, but that it was known abroad in [the] country;

which was lamentable to all his neighbours about Southwell, and as it

was lamentable unto them, so was it as much joy to his neighbours about

Scroby.

Against the day of his removing divers knights and other gentlemen of

worship in the country came to him to Southwell, intending to accompany

and attend upon him in that journey the next day, and to conduct

him through the forest unto Scroby. But he being of their purpose

advertised, how they did intend to have lodged a great stag or twain

for him by the way, purposely to show him all the pleasure and disport

they could devise, and having, as I said, thereof intelligence, was

very loath to receive any such honour and disport at their hands, not

knowing how the king would take it; and being well assured that his

enemies would rejoice much to understand that he would take upon him

any such presumption, whereby they might find an occasion to inform the

king how sumptuous and pleasant he was, notwithstanding his adversity

and overthrow, and so to bring the king into a wrong opinion [of him,

and caused] small hope of reconcilement, but rather that he sought

a mean to obtain the favour of the country to withstand the king's

proceedings, with divers such imaginations, wherein he might rather

sooner catch displeasure than favour and honour. And also he was loath

to make the worshipful gentlemen privy to this his imagination, lest

peradventure they should conceive some toy or fantasy in their heads

by means thereof, and so to eschew their accustomed access, and absent

themselves from him, which should be as much to his grief as the other

was to his comfort. Therefore he devised this mean way, as hereafter

followeth, which should rather be taken for a laughing disport than

otherwise: first he called me unto him secretly at night, going to his

rest, and commanded me in anywise most secretly that night to cause

six or seven horses, besides his mule for his own person, to be made

ready by the break of the day for him and such persons as he appointed

to ride with him to an abbey called Welbeck[180], where he intended to

lodge by the way to Scroby, willing me to be also in a readiness to

ride with him, and to call him so early that he might be on horseback,

after he had heard mass, by the breaking of the day. Sir, what will you

more? All things being accomplished according to his commandment, and

the same finished and done, he, with a small number before appointed,

mounted upon his mule, setting forth by the breaking of the day towards

Welbeck, which is about sixteen miles from thence; whither my lord and

we came before six of the clock in the morning, and so went straight

to his bed, leaving all the gentlemen strangers in their beds at

Southwell, nothing privy of my lord's secret departure, who expected

his uprising until it was eight of the clock. But after it was known

to them and to all the rest there remaining behind him, then every man

went to horseback, galloping after, supposing to overtake him. But

he was at his rest in Welbeck or ever they rose out of their beds in

Southwell, and so their chief hunting and coursing of the great stag

was disappointed and dashed. But at their thither resort to my lord,

sitting at dinner, the matter was jested, and laughed out merrily, and

all the matter well taken.

My lord the next day removed from thence, to whom resorted divers

gentlemen of my lord the Earl of Shrewsbury's servants, to desire my

lord, in their master's name, to hunt in a park of the earl's called

Worksop Park, the which was within a mile of Welbeck, and the very

best and next[181] way for my lord to travel through on his journey,

where much plenty of game was laid in a readiness to show him pleasure.

Howbeit he thanked my lord their master for his gentleness, and them

for their pains; saying that he was no meet man for any such pastime,

being a man otherwise disposed, such pastimes and pleasures were meet

for such noblemen as delight therein. Nevertheless he could do no

less than to account my Lord of Shrewsbury to be much his friend, in

whom he found such gentleness and nobleness in his honourable offer,

to whom he rendered his most lowly thanks. But in no wise they could

entreat him to hunt. Although the worshipful gentlemen being in his

company provoked him all that they could do thereto, yet he would not

consent, desiring them to be contented; saying, that he came not into

the country, to frequent or follow any such pleasures or pastimes, but

only to attend to a greater care that he had in hand, which was his

duty, study, and pleasure. And with such reasons and persuasions he

pacified them for that time. Howbeit yet as he rode through the park,

both my Lord of Shrewsbury's servants, and also the foresaid gentlemen

moved him once again, before whom the deer lay very fair for all

pleasant hunting and coursing. But it would not be; but [he] made as

much speed to ride through the park as he could. And at the issue out

of the park he called the earl's gentlemen and the keepers unto him,

desiring them to have him commended to my lord their master, thanking

him for his most honourable offer and good will, trusting shortly to

visit him at his own house: and gave the keepers forty shillings for

their pains and diligence who conducted him through the park. And so

rode to another abbey called Rufford Abbey [to dinner]; and after he

rode to Blythe Abbey, where he lay all night. And the next day he came

to Scroby, where he continued until after Michaelmas, ministering many

deeds of charity. Most commonly every Sunday (if the weather did serve)

he would travel unto some parish church thereabout, and there would say

his divine service, and either hear or say mass himself, causing some

one of his chaplains to preach unto the people. And that done, he would

dine in some honest house of that town, where should be distributed to

the poor a great alms, as well of meat and drink as of money to supply

the want of sufficient meat, if the number of the poor did so exceed

of necessity. And thus with other good deeds practising and exercising

during his abode there at Scroby, as making of love-days and agreements

between party and party, being then at variance, he daily frequented

himself there about such business and deeds of honest charity.

Then about the feast of St. Michael next ensuing my lord took his

journey towards Cawood Castle, the which is within seven miles of

York; and passing thither he lay two nights and a day at St. Oswald's

Abbey, where he himself confirmed children in the church, from eight of

the clock in the morning until twelve of the clock at noon. And making

a short dinner, resorted again to the church at one of the clock, and

there began again to confirm more children until four of the clock,

where he was at the last constrained for weariness to sit down in a

chair, the number of the children was such. That done, he said his even

song, and then went to supper, and rested him there all that night. And

the next morning he applied himself to depart towards Cawood; and or

ever he departed, he confirmed almost a hundred children more; and then

rode on his journey. And by the way there were assembled at a stone

cross standing upon a green, within a quarter of a mile of Ferrybridge,

about the number of two hundred children, to confirm; where he

alighted, and never removed his foot until he had confirmed them all;

and then took his mule again and rode to Cawood, where he lay long

after with much honour and love of the country, both of the worshipful

and of the simple, exercising himself in good deeds of charity, and

kept there an honourable and plentiful house for all comers; and also

built and repaired the castle, which was then greatly decayed, having

a great multitude of artificers and labourers, above the number of

three hundred persons, daily in wages.

And lying there, he had intelligence by the gentlemen of the country,

that used to repair unto him, that there was sprung a great variance

and deadly hate between Sir Richard Tempest and Mr. Brian Hastings,

then being but a squire, but after made knight, between whom was

like to ensue great murder, unless some good mean might be found to

redress the inconvenience that was most likeliest to ensue. My lord

being thereof advertised, lamenting the case, made such means by his

wisdom and letters, with other persuasions, that these two gentlemen

were content to resort to my lord to Cawood, and there to abide his

order, high and low. Then was there a day appointed of their assembly

before my lord, at which day they came not without great number on

each part. Wherefore against [that] day, my lord had required many

worshipful gentlemen to be there present, to assist him with their

wisdoms to appease these two worthy gentlemen, being at deadly feud.

And to see the king's peace kept, commanding no more of their number

to enter into the castle with these two gentlemen than six persons

of each of their menial servants, and all the rest to remain without

in the town, or where they listed to repair. And my lord himself

issuing out of the gates, calling the number of both parties before

him, straightly charging them most earnestly to observe and keep the

king's peace, in the king's name, upon their perils, without either

bragging or quarreling either with other; and caused them to have

both beer and wine sent them into the town; and then returned again

into the castle, being about nine of the clock. And because he would

have these gentlemen to dine with him at his own table, thought it

good in avoiding of further inconvenience to appease their rancour

before. Whereupon he called them into his chapel; and there, with

the assistance of the other gentlemen, he fell into communication

with the matter, declaring unto them the dangers and mischiefs that

through their wilfulness and folly were most likeliest to ensue; with

divers other good exhortations. Notwithstanding, the parties laying

and alleging many things for their defence, sometime adding each to

other stout and despiteful words of defiance, the which my lord and

the other gentlemen had much ado to qualify, their malice was so

great. Howbeit, at length, with long continuance and wise arguments,

and deep persuasions made by my lord, they were agreed, and finally

accorded about four of the clock at afternoon; and so made them

friends. And, as it seemed, they both rejoiced, and were right well

contented therewith, to the great comfort of all the other worshipful

gentlemen, causing them to shake hands, and to go arm in arm to dinner;

and so went to dinner, though it was very late to dine[182], yet

notwithstanding they dined together with the other gentlemen at my

lord's table, where they drank lovingly each to other, with countenance

of great amity. After dinner my lord caused them to discharge their

routs and assembly that remained in the town, and to retain with them

no more servants than they were accustomed most commonly to ride with.

And that done, these gentlemen, fulfilling his commandment, tarried

at Cawood, and lay there all night; whom my lord entertained in such

sort that they accepted his noble heart in great worthiness [and

friendship,] trusting to have of him a special jewel in their country:

having him in great estimation and favour, as it appeared afterward by

their behaviour and demeanour towards him.

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