146. THE CORNISH INSURRECTION.

[LORD BACON.

The Cornish being a race of men, stout of stomach, mighty of body and limb, and that lived hardy in a barren country, and many of them could, for a need, live under ground, that were tinners. They muttered extremely, that it was a thing not to be suffered, that for a little stir of the Scots, soon blown over, they should be thus grinded to powder with payments; and said it was for them to pay that had too much, and lived idly. But they would eat their bread they got with the sweat of their brows, and no man should take it from them. And as in the tides of people once up, there want not commonly stirring winds to make them more rough; so this people did light upon two ringleaders or captains of the rout. The one was one Michael Joseph, a blacksmith or farrier, of Bodmin, a notable talking fellow, and no less desirous to be talked of. The other was Thomas Flammock, a lawyer, who, by telling his neighbours commonly upon any occasion that the law was on their side, had gotten great sway amongst them. This man talked learnedly, and as if he could tell how to make a rebellion, and never break the peace. told the people, that subsidies were not to be granted, nor levied in this case; that is, for wars of Scotland; for that the law had provided another course, by service of escuage, for those journeys; much less when all was quiet, and war was made but a pretence to poll and pill the people. And therefore that it was good they should not stand now like sheep before the shearers, but put on harness, and take weapons in their hands. Yet to do no creature hurt, but go and deliver the king a strong petition for the laying down of those grievous payments, and for the punishment of those that had given him that counsel; to make others beware how they did the like in time to come. And said, for his part he did not see how they could do the duty of true Englishmen, and good liege-men, except they did deliver the king from such wicked ones, that would destroy both him and the country. Their aim was at Archbishop Morton and Sir Reginald Bray, who were the king's screens in this envy.

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After that these two, Flammock and the blacksmith, had by joint and several pratings found tokens of consent in the multitude, they offered themselves to lead them, until they should hear of better men to be their leaders, which they said would be ere long: telling them further, that they would be but their servants, and first in every danger; but doubted not but to make both the west-end and the east-end of England to meet in so good a quarrel; and that all, rightly understood, was but for the king's service. The people upon these seditious instigations, did arm, most of them with bows and arrows, and bills, and such other weapons of rude and country people, and forthwith under the command of their leaders, which in such cases is ever at pleasure, marched out of Cornwall through Devonshire unto Taunton in Somersetshire, without any slaughter, violence, or spoil of the country. At Taunton they killed in fury an officious and eager commissioner for the subsidy, whom they called the Provost of Perin. Thence they marched to Wells, where the Lord Audley, with whom their leaders had before some secret intelligence, a nobleman of an ancient family, but unquiet and popular, and aspiring to ruin, came in to them, and was by them, with great gladness and cries of joy, accepted as their general: they being now proud that they were led by a nobleman. The Lord Audley led them on from Wells to Salisbury, and from Salisbury to Winchester. Thence the foolish people, who, in effect, led their leaders, had a mind to be led into Kent, fancying that the people there would join with them; contrary to all reason or judgment, considering the Kentish men had showed great loyalty and affection to the king so lately before. But the rude people had heard

Flammock say, that Kent was never conquered, and that they were the freest people of England. And upon these vain noises, they looked for great matters at their hands, in a cause which they conceited to be for the liberty of the subject. But when they were come into Kent, the country was so well settled, both by the king's late kind usage towards them, and by the credit and power of the Earl of Kent, the Lord Abergavenny, and the Lord Cobham, as neither gentleman nor yeoman came in to their aid, which did much damp and dismay many of the simpler sort; insomuch as divers of them did secretly fly from the army, and went home but the sturdier sort, and those that were most engaged, stood by it, and rather waxed proud, than failed in hopes and courage. For as it did somewhat appal them, that the people came not in to them, so it did no less encourage them, that the king's forces had not set upon them, having marched from the west unto the east of England. Wherefore they kept on their way, and encamped upon Blackheath, between Greenwich and Eltham, threatening either to bid battle to the king, for now the seas went higher than to Morton and Bray, or to take London within his view; imagining with themselves there to find no less fear than wealth. When therefore the rebels were encamped on Blackheath, upon the hill, whence they might behold the city of London, and the fair valley about it; the king knowing well, that it stood him upon, by how much the more he had hitherto protracted the time in not encountering them, by so much the sooner to despatch with them, that it might appear to have been no coldness in fore-slowing, but wisdom in choosing his time; resolved with all speed to assail them, and yet with that providence and surety, as should leave little to venture or fortune. And having very great and puissant forces about him, the better to master all events and accidents, he divided them into three parts; the first was led by the Earl of Oxford in chief, assisted by the Earls of Essex and Suffolk. These noblemen were appointed, with some cornets of horse and bands of foot, and good store of artillery, wheeling about to put themselves beyond the hill where the rebels were encamped; and to beset all the skirts and descents thereof, except those that lay towards London; whereby to have these wild beasts, as it were, in a toil. The second part of his forces, which were those that were to be most in action, and upon which he relied most for the fortune of the day, he did assign to be led by the lord chamberlain, who was appointed to set upon the rebels in front, from that side which is towards London. The third part of his forces, being likewise great and brave forces, he retained about himself, to be ready upon all events to restore the fight, or consummate the victory; and meanwhile to secure the city. And for that purpose he encamped in person in St. George's Fields, putting himself between the city and the rebels. But the city of London, specially at the first, upon the near encamping of the rebels, was in great tumult: as it useth to be with wealthy and populous cities, especially those which for greatness and fortune are queens of their regions, who seldom see out of their windows or from their towers, an army of enemies. But that which troubled them most, was the conceit, that they dealt with a rout of people, with whom there was no composition or condition, or orderly treating, if need were; but likely to be bent altogether upon rapine and spoil. And although they had heard that the rebels had behaved themselves quietly and modestly by the way as they went; yet they doubted much that would not last, but rather make them more hungry, and more in appetite to fall upon spoil in the end. Wherefore there was great running to and fro of people, some to the gates, some to the walls, some to the water-side: giving themselves alarms and panic fears continually. Nevertheless both Tate the lord mayor, and Shaw and Haddon the sheriffs, did their parts, stoutly and well, in arming and ordering the people. And the king likewise did adjoin some captains of experience in the wars to advise

and assist the citizens. But soon after, when they understood that the king had so ordered the matter, that the rebels must win three battles, before they could approach the city, and that he had put his own person between the rebels and them, and that the great care was, rather how to impound the rebels that none of them might escape, than that any doubt was made to vanquish them; they grew to be quiet and out of fear; the rather for the confidence they reposed, which was not small, in the three leaders, Oxford, Essex, and D'Aubigny; all men well famed and loved amongst the people. As for Jaspar, Duke of Bedford, whom the king used to employ with the first in his wars, he was then sick and died soon after.

It was the two and twentieth of June, and a Saturday, which was the day of the week the king fancied, when the battle was fought: though the king had, by all the art he could devise, given out a false day, as if he prepared to give the rebels battle on the Monday following, the better to find them unprovided, and in disarray. The lords that were appointed to circle the hill, had some days before planted themselves, as at the receipt, in places convenient. In the afternoon, towards the decline of the day, which was done the better to keep the rebels in opinion that they should not fight that day, the Lord D'Aubigny marched on towards them, and first beat some troops of them from Deptford-bridge, where they fought manfully; but being in no great number, were soon driven back, and fled up to their main army upon the hill. The army at that time, hearing of the approach of the king's forces, were putting themselves in array, not without much confusion. But neither had they placed, upon the first high ground, towards the bridge, any forces to second the troops below, that kept the bridge; neither had they brought forwards their main battle, which stood in array far into the heath, near to the ascent of the hill. So that the earl with his forces mounted the hill, and recovered the plain without resistance. The Lord D'Aubigny charged them with great fury; insomuch as it had like, by accident, to have brandled the fortune of the day: for, by inconsiderate forwardness in fighting in the head of his troops, he was taken by the rebels, but immediately rescued and delivered. The rebels maintained the fight for a small time, and for their persons showed no want of courage; but being ill armed, and ill led, and without horse or artillery, they were with no great difficulty cut in pieces, and put to flight. And for their three leaders the Lord Audley, the blacksmith, and Flammock, as commonly the captains of commotions are but half-couraged men, suffered themselves to be taken alive. The number slain on the rebels' part were some two thousand men: their army amounting, as it is said, unto the number of sixteen thousand. The rest were, in effect, all taken; for that the hill, as was said, was encompassed with the king's forces round about. On the king's part there died about three hundred, most of them shot with arrows, which were reported to be of the length of a tailor's yard: so strong and mighty a bow the Cornish men were said to draw.

The victory thus obtained, the king created divers bannerets, as well upon Blackheath, where his lieutenant had won the field, whither he rode in person to perform the said creation, as in St. George's Fields, where his own person had been encamped. And for matter of liberality, he did, by open edict, give the goods of all the prisoners unto those that had taken them; either to take them in kind or compound for them as they could. After matter of honour and liberality, followed matter of severity and execution. The Lord Audley was led from Newgate to Tower-hill, in a paper coat painted with his own arms; the arms reversed, the coat torn, and he at Tower-hill beheaded. Flammock and the blacksmith were hanged, drawn, and quartered at Tyburn: the blacksmith taking pleasure upon the hurdle, as it seemeth by words that he uttered, to think that he should be famous in after-times. The king was once in mind to have sent down Flammock and the blacksmith to have

been executed in Cornwall, for the more terror; but being advertised that the country was yet unquiet and boiling, he thought better not to irritate the people further. All the rest were pardoned by proclamation, and to take out their pardons under seal, as many as would. So that, more than the blood drawn in the field, the king did satisfy himself with the lives of only three offenders, for the expiation of this great rebellion.

147.-PERKIN WARBECK.- II.

LORD BACON.

The King of Scotland, though he would not formally retract his judgment of Perkin, wherein he had engaged himself so far; yet in his private opinion, upon often speech with the Englishmen, and divers other advertisements, began to suspect him for a counterfeit. Wherefore in a noble fashion he called him unto him, and recounted the benefits and favours that he had done him in making him his ally, and in provoking a mighty and opulent king by an offensive war in his quarrel, for the space of two years together; nay more, that he had refused an honourable peace, whereof he had a fair offer, if he would have delivered him; and that, to keep his promise with him, he had deeply offended both his nobles and people whom he might not hold in any long discontent; and therefore required him to think of his own fortunes, and to choose out some fitter place for his exile: telling him withal, that he could not say, but the English had forsaken him before the Scottish, for that, upon two several trials, none had declared themselves on his side; but nevertheless he would make good what he said to him at his first receiving, which was that he should not repent him for putting himself into his hands; for that he would not cast him off, but help him with shipping and means to transport him where he should desire. Perkin, not descending at all from his stage-like greatness, answered the king in few words, that he saw his time was not yet come; but whatsoever his fortunes were, he should both think and speak honour of the king. Taking his leave, he would not think on Flanders, doubting it was but hollow ground for him since the treaty of the archduke, concluded the year before; but took his lady, and such followers as would not leave him, and sailed over into Ireland.

All this while the rebellion of Cornwall, whereof we have spoken, seemed to have no relation to Perkin; save that perhaps Perkin's proclamation had stricken upon the right vein, in promising to lay down exactions and payments, and so had made them now and then have a kind thought on Perkin. But now these bubbles by much stirring began to meet, as they use to do upon the top of water. The king's lenity, by that time the Cornish rebels who were taken and pardoned, and, as it was said, many of them sold by them that had taken them, for twelve pence and two shillings a piece, were come down into their country, had rather emboldened them than reclaimed them; insomuch as they stuck not to say to their neighbours and countrymen, that the king did well to pardon them, for that he knew he should leave few subjects in England, if he hanged all that were of their mind; and began whetting and inciting one another to renew the commotion. Some of the subtilest of them, hearing of Perkin's being in Ireland, found means to send to him to let him know, that if he would come over to them they would serve him.

When Perkin heard this news, he began to take heart again, and advised upon it with his council, which were principally three; Herne, a mercer that had fled for debt; Skelton, a tailor; and Astley, a scrivener; for Secretary Frion was gone.

These told him, that he was mightily overseen, both when he went into Kent, and when he went into Scotland; the one being a place so near London, and under the king's nose; and the other a nation so distasted with the people of England, that if they had loved him never so well, yet they could never have taken his part in that company. But if he had been so happy as to have been in Cornwall at the first, when the people began to take arms there, he had been crowned at Westminster before this time. For, these kings, as he had now experience, would sell poor princes for shoes. But he must rely wholly upon people; and therefore advised him to sail over with all possible speed into Cornwall; which accordingly he did, having in his company four small barks, with some six score or seven score fighting men. He arrived in September at Whitsand-Bay, and forthwith came to Bodmin, the blacksmith's town; where there assembled unto him to the number of three thousand men of the rude people. There he set forth a new proclamation, stroking the people with fair promises, and humouring them with invectives against the king and his government. And as it fareth with smoke, that never loseth itself till it be at the highest; he did now before his end raise his style, entitling himself no more Richard, Duke of York, but Richard the Fourth, King of England. His council advised him by all means to make himself master of some good walled town; as well to make his men find the sweetness of rich spoils, and to allure to him all loose and lost people, by like hopes of booty; as to be a sure retreat to his forces, in case they should have any ill day, or unlucky chance in the field. Wherefore they took heart to them, and went on, and besieged the city of Exeter, the principal town for strength and wealth in those parts.

Perkin, hearing this thunder of arms, and preparations against him from so many parts, raised his siege, and marched to Taunton; beginning already to squint one eye upon the crown and another upon the sanctuary; though the Cornish men were become, like metal often fired and quenched, churlish, and that would sooner break than bow; swearing and vowing not to leave him, till the uttermost drop of their blood were spilt. He was at his rising from Exeter between six and seven thousand strong, many having come unto him after he was set before Exeter, upon fame of so great an enterprise, and to partake of the spoil; though upon the raising of his siege some did slip away. When he was come near Taunton, he dissembled all fear, and seemed all the day to use diligence in preparing all things ready to fight. But about midnight he fled with three score horse to Bewdley in the New Forest, where he and divers of his company registered themselves sanctuarymen, leaving his Cornish men to the four winds; but yet thereby easing them of their vow, and using his wonted compassion, not to be by when his subjects' blood should be spilt. The king, as soon as he heard of Perkin's flight, sent presently five hundred horse to pursue and apprehend him, before he should get either to the sea, or to that same little island called a sanctuary. But they came too late for the latter of these. Therefore all they could do, was to beset the sanctuary, and to maintain a strong watch about it, till the king's pleasure were further known. As for the rest of the rebels, they, being destituted of their head, without stroke stricken, submitted themselves unto the king's mercy. And the king, who commonly drew blood, as physicians do, rather to save life than to spill it, and was never cruel when he was secure ; now he saw the danger was past, pardoned them all in the end, except some few desperate persons, which he reserved to be executed, the better to set off his mercy towards the rest. There were also sent with all speed some horse to St. Michael's Mount in Cornwall, where the lady Catharine Gordon was left by her husband, whom in all fortunes she entirely loved; adding the virtues of a wife to the virtues of her sex. The king sent in the greater diligence, not knowing whether she might be with child, whereby