A generall rehearsall of warres, called Churchyardes choise wherein is fiue hundred seuerall seruices of land and sea as seiges, battailes, skirmiches, and encounters. A thousande gentle mennes names, of the beste sorte of warriours. A praise and true honour of soldiours. A proofe of perfite nobilitie. A triall and first erection of heraldes. A discourse of calamitie. And ioyned to the same some tragedies & epitaphes, as many as was necessarie for this firste booke. All which workes are dedicated to the hounourable sir Christopher Hatton knight, ... Written by Thomas Churchyard Gent. 1579.

A generall rehearsall of warres, called Churchyardes choise wherein is fiue hundred seuerall seruices of land and sea as seiges, battailes, skirmiches, and encounters. A thousande gentle mennes names, of the beste sorte of warriours. A praise and true honour of soldiours. A proofe of perfite nobilitie. A triall and first erection of heraldes. A discourse of calamitie. And ioyned to the same some tragedies & epitaphes, as many as was necessarie for this firste booke. All which workes are dedicated to the hounourable sir Christopher Hatton knight, ... Written by Thomas Churchyard Gent. 1579.

Table of contents

Title page

To the right honourable my most assured freend, sir Christopher Hatton Knight vize chamberlaine to the Queenes Maiestie, and one of her highnesse priuie Counsaill: Thomas Churchyarde wisheth as greate good Fortune and worldly felicitie, as he desireth heauenlie blessyng.

To the freendly reader.

Churchyardes Choise.

And abstracte of the aucthoritie, and entertainemente, that was giuen and committed by the honourable sir Henry Sidney Knight, Lorde Deputie of Irelande: to sir Humfrey Gilbert knight, duryng the tyme of his continuaunce and seruice in Munster, in Irelande. Written to showe how that seuere and straight handely of rebellious people, reformes them sooner to obedience, then any courteous dealyng: because the stiffe necked must be made to stoupe, with extremitie of Iustice, and stoute behauiour.

The order and course of his gouernement.

An abstracte of some of his perticular seruices.

¶A Mirrhor for rebelles to looke into, where the death of one Roorie Oge in Irelande (whose life was alwaies without order) doeth shewe that the reward of vice is euer open shame, and a foule ende.

¶A small rehersall of some speciall seruices in Flaunders of late, part whereof were in the tyme of Don Ihons gouernment and the reste beyng doen in the present seruice of the Prince of Parma, now gouernour of Flaunders.

¶A description or discourse, that declareth how that by tastyng of miseries, men become happie: written for that Soldiours alwaies beares the burthen of Sorrowe, and suffers more calamitie then any other people.

A pitefull complaint, in maner of a Tragedie, of Seignior Anthonio dell Dondaldoes wife, somtyme in the duke of Florences Courte: Translated out of Italian prose, and putte into Englishe verse.

A heauie matter of a Englishe gentleman, and a gentlewoman, in maner of a Tragedie: whiche gentlewoman called her freende the wanderyng Prince.

A Pirates Tragedie, beyng a gentleman of a verie good house: Made at the request of Maister Peter Caroe, Capitaine of Laughlin in Irelande: and fette out to shewe the miserable life of a Rouer, whose wretched desire of other mens goodes, bringes open shame, and a violente death.

A Letter sent from the noble Erle of Ormondes house at Kilkennie, to the honourable sir Henry Sidney, then Lorde Deputie, and liyng at Rorke, in Irelande.

The Epitaphe of the rare vertuous Prince (and towardes Impe of grace) Kyng Edward the sixte.

The Epitaphe of the worthie Erle of Essex.

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A generall rehearsall of warres, called Churchyardes Choise: wherin is fiue hundred seuerall seruices of land and sea as Sieges, Battailes, Skirmiches, and Encounters. A thousande Gentle mennes names, of the beste sorte of warriours. A praise and true honour of Soldiours. A proofe of perfite Nobilitie. A triall and first erection of Heraldes. A discourse of calamitie. And ioyned to the same some Tragedies & Epitaphes, as many as was necessarie for this firste booke.

All whiche workes are dedicated to the honourable sir Christopher Hatton knight, vize Chamberlain, Capitaine of the Garde: And one of the Quéenes Maiesties priuie Counsaile. Written by Thomas Churchyard Gent.

1579.

¶ Imprinted at London by Edward White, dwellyng at the little North-doore of S. Paules Churche, at the signe of the Gunne.

To the right honourable my most assured freend, sir Christopher Hatton Knight vize chamberlaine to the Queenes Maiestie, and one of her highnesse priuie Counsaill: Thomas Churchyarde wisheth as greate good Fortune and worldly felicitie, as he desireth heauenlie blessyng.

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IF the ground yeld not corne, the Tree beare fruite, the flower keepe sent and sauour, we hold them as waste, and in a shorte season forget their former goodnesse: So freendes waxyng faint of memorie, feble in duetie (and negligent of that becomes them) fall at length out of fauour, and lose the blessed benifite of freendshippe. For the penne, hedde, or hande, that hath vsed honeste exercises, once liyng idell, doeth not onely purchace suspition, but also breedeth muche misliking, and makes menne forgotten, where moste thei would be remembred. So right honourable, consideryng these causes, I ought to be occupied [Page] in my accustomed maner of writyng, least that tyme and slouth (the corrupter and cankerar of good conditions) weare me cleane out of credite and compell me to forthinke the idelnesse I haue vsed. Yea, albeit the matter be but barraine, I seeke to bryng forthe, yet a duetifull wel willar, ought to bee doyng the beste in his power, that the best maie be taken, and gathered of the good will, that still hath a desire to bryng forth some acceptable fruite. And truely though my senses are simple, to sift and search out suche matter, as were meete for the personage, to whom this is offered. Yet I can not want good store and copie of causes to write of in this crooked age, where no one thing is streight and vpright but a noble mynde, that neither stoupes to the mutabilitie of fortune, nor boweth doune to the wickednesse of this waiward worlde: To treate of the whiche (vnder correctiō) I haue a great desire. For the common people haue clapped on sutche newe Natures, and are so finely transformed, from the olde fashion of goodnesse, as a perfite iust man is as hard to finde emong them, as a Phenix out of Arabie. Yet was there neuer more curiositie of woordes, nor lesse constancie [Page] in deedes: for now is he accoumpted no bodie, that can not deceiue a multitude. And the more finelier he can behaue hym self, the more affection is borne hym, so that the plaine meanyng is ouermatched with the connyng cō ueiance of muffled mischeef. And the outwarde show of simplicitie, disceiues the inward iudgement so mutche, that the subtell Foxe goes vnspied, and the simple Sheepe is led to the slaughter. For with artificiall courtezie, and double dessembled countenaunce, plaine people are carried from them selues, and made the bonde slaues of those wolues, that priuelie deuoures thē. The little Antes ronnes not so faste out of the Moule hill, as the fauners with flattrie followes their heeles, that thei minde to ouer reache, and wrest to their profite: And who is so diligent as the deceiuer, and so readie to attende & waite, as the wilie worldlyng. VVho first can fishe out mennes maners & inclinations, and after feede their humours, accordyng to their infirmities. And in deede these craftie men pleasars, haue more mynde of Mammon then of God, of vanitie then of vertue. For like vices on a stage thei serue in a State, and helpe to fill out a bare [Page] matter with a bad laughter. These are the wiely Spannyels of the worlde, that can not be beaten frō the heles of nobilitie. These are the turning weather cockes, that seldome standeth stil. And these are the cunnyng Clarkes, who neuer came in vniuersitie, and yet are fine maisters of Art. And who licketh vp the crommes, that falleth from the table of good fortune: but these whinyng whelpes, that priuely can bite and openly can faune. For the dissembler getts more by doublenesse, then by plaine dealyng, & more by good lucke, then by good maners. As some of the Sages affirme, that conning creepes alwaies in fauour. And blinde affection is the onely father, that begettes the children of good chance, and brynges the fauoured to prefarment. And all the reste are but bastardes of beggarie, begotten out of season, & borne in haste. VVhich babes for want of blessyng, are become wanderars of this worlde, pilgrims of the yearth, and blossomes of a blasted tree. But the graue and wise holde opinion, a man maie as well seeke to clime to the cloudes, as come by commoditie till the cause and ground of all goodnesse, call hym to the doale, and deale hym an almes. For neither [Page] shifte nor snatchyng will helpe, where portions are deuided (and lotted out) to the pleasure of the giuer. In plentie he tombleth that is prefarred to any place or benefite by this celestiall order, and appointment of the almightie. But some shreude serchers of secretes, holde opinion that Sathan is princeps mundi: and the mucke of this moulde vndeseruedly, falles in their lappes, that least is thought worthie of so greate aboundance. And the poore are the personages, that in the other worlde (for their pacience here) shalbe placed beyonde our common exspectation. It maie be moste likely: For riche's is a readie instrument, and a pleasaunte pipe to make men dance after the deuells Tabber. And pouertie is the perfite pathe to lead men to felicitie. Yet there nedes no argument to descipher the one from the other: For in bothe estates a manne maie doe well, but the riche hath better meane to doe good then the poore. If those that are fleetyng in the flood of good fortune, looke backwarde on the little brookes, that feedes the Sea with water, and followes the tides by continuall recourse, the onely cause of the swellyng of the Seas, and pride of the streames. For, if euery [Page] small spryng were stopte, eche large Riuer kepte in, and all kinde of Fountaines restrained from their course, a seconde Sea would bee seen on the lande, or the fulnesse of the firste would begin to decline. So that the repaire of people to any place, procures vaine glorie, loftie lookes, ambicious myndes, and maintaineth mutche pompe, and sutche as withdrawe them selues frō wilfull seruitude, neither flatter their owne iudgementes to farre, nor filles vp the flood to faste. There is no more to bee saied, but in this worldly Theater, euery man plaies one parte or other, that either is worthie rebuke, or merites commendation. O that menne knewe what gaie garlande, is gotten by the goodnesse of vertue, then the inferior sort would not striue & wrastell, to putte on the wretched wreath of vice. For as right renoume is the true reward of well dooyng: So open reproche followes, as a shadowe the bodie, that is readie to doe harme. The good that is dooen emong the thankefull, is not onely redoubled againe with good will: but like wise linketh in a chaine of loue, the hartes of those that receiues it. And thei are priuie rich, that can by bountie purchace many debtars, [Page] deserue many blessynges, and make many people be beholdyng vnto them. A number of glosyng and glorious worldlinges, that by bragges of boūtie, offer good turnes to saell, with a signe and showe that thei maie be bought for a little or nothyng: but on a sodaine thei rather looke who can doe theim good, then remember to whō thei haue offered the saell, and commmoditie of their marchandice. Sutche fine fellowes and petie foggars, are the frothe and scome of the sea, that welters with the waues: and not the Honie and Creame of the yearth, that ought to be preciously made of. And lo for a proofe of praise sutche yonkars can promesse more in an howre, then thei minde to performe all their life tyme, thinking with bare woordes, to winne freendes and followers, where naked woorkes of Nature nourisheth nothyng, but hollownesse of harte. For proofe and example thereof, let the thristie looke for drinke, and finde his hope deceiued (at the well hedde of comforte) he flynges awaie his bottle, beates his breast with repētance, & falles in misliking for euer, or seekes some other faire fountain, to coole and quenche the flaming furnaies of the stomacke. An other sorte there are [Page] (but no greate number) whiche without boste, bragge, or businesse, are glad to finde an occasion to pleasure their freende, by woorde, deede, trauaill, or charges: And these are the Salte of the worlde, that seasoneth the life of manne with sweete sauor, and giueth good tast at the death to the soule before God. There is no one man so mightie, so strong, valiaunt, or wise, but needes the aide of an other, and happie are the handes, hedde, and bodie, from whom helpe proceadeth. It breedeth merrie thoughtes, causeth sweete sleepes, shaketh of displeasure, to woorke a common commoditie, or a priuate benefite, whiche goodnesse and noble Nature, is in some that I knowe. But for feare of fallyng into a kinde of adulation therein (nor in the discourse of the worlde) I goe no farther, confessyng that who soeuer listeth to write, hath coppie and store of matter enough to treate vppon, when willyng mynde leades the penne, and honest iudgement shall skilfully scan the maners of menne, their sondrie inclinations, their quallities and callinges, and the disposition of the worlde. And for that my capacitie reacheth not farre, and discoursyng of greate thynges, maie bryng my [Page] small knowledge out of compasse. I haue bente my studie to treate of cōmon causes, as familiar with the wise & learned in these our daies, as weakest fancies in other seasons hath been with the ignoraunte people embraced. And because many writers haue but sleightly touched (both in Chronicle and otherwise) the affaires of warre, the honour of Soldiours, the cause and beginnyng of Nobilitie, the erection of Haraldes, the names of Gentlemen that well haue deserued: the goodnesse that Calamitie bryngeth, and the fame that noble life attaineth vnto. I haue taken this troublous taske in hande, not onely to woorke truely, for the daiely hire that good report giueth, but to showe plainly my honeste meanyng (in the thynges named) that bothe laboure and long studie hath brought me too. Not thinking but your honourable insight, and acquaintaunce with these matters, needes none of my discourses: but because I promised in the booke of my Chipps (a matter vnfit for your honour to looke on) to presente an other worke, whiche hath been long of commyng out, and I feare is ouer simple with all this greate laisure, to merite thankes. Notwithstandyng, [Page] the paines hath been greate, and desire to dooe well not little: yet the barenesse of the woordes and weakenesse of the matter, I dread will either lose my thankes, or driue me in disgrace. And yet I might saie that the matter (nowe presented, though not well written) maie claim a greate consideration, and merites as mutche fauour, as any thyng that euer passed from my penne. The iudgemente whereof, can not escape the compasse of your honorable knowledge, and albeeit that with diuers deuises and bookes dedicated, to sondrie good and greate personages, I haue wandered a while) after the fauour of this worlde, and the good Fortune, that diligence might haue brought: yet nowe wearied with ouermutche labour in gaddyng about, for the purchasyng of freendshippe (hardely to bee gotten, and as daungerous to bee kepte) am driuen to retire to my firste Fortresse and holde, where helpe is to bee had, and succour is to bee sought, because my second practise neither purchased prefarment, nor paied for the paines and paper, that I thinke well bestowed. And though verely some thinke, that good turnes comes rather (in generall cases) by Fortune, affection, or [Page] fauoure, then by diligence, studie, or desarte, I a dresse my laste woorkes, where I truste a noble mynde shalbee iudge of my labours, and so further my happ and fauour in the worlde, that no hatefull Fortune, nor people shall hinder my hope. Thus hopyng the woorkes, by help of your protection presented, shall haue as many fauourers as readers, and no more readers (that mislikes the matter) then liketh to write an other discourse as well meante. I shadowe my self vnder the sheelde of youre honoure, so dwellyng in that saffetie & staiednesse of mynd (whiche is a beautie to hoarie heares) I wishe you what beste can bee imagined, of honoure, wealthe, knowledge, credite, and worldly felicitie. Praiyng with all, that the blessed deawe of heauen, multiplie and keepe moiste the manifold graces, of your well desposed mynde. From my lodging the xv. of October. 1579.

Thomas Churchyard in all that he maie, at your honorable commandmente.

To the freendly reader.

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AS it is a thing sufferable, and daiely seene, that eche man fauors those personages, whose nature, qualitie, or condition agreeth together, so I hope (albeit I am but a small Soldiour, I maie boldly write of Marciall affaires, and men of warre, without dislikyng of any: because suche matter or menne, are fittest for my penne to be honoured withall, and neerest the compasse of my knowledge, and profession. Yet albeeit that some of the malicious sort, doe maruell at my boldnesse herein, I let them babble, and aunswere the quiet people of milde and sounde iudgemente, that I thinke the beste tyme I can bestowe, is to further the fame of the honest, nexte to the prefarmente of my countries commendation. And that before all other thynges (excepte the honouryng of Prince and publike state) a true writer ought of duetie, to haue in admiration and reuerēce, the valliaunt Soldiours, and men of worthy value. For thereby the beste are knowne, and reape the reward of wel doyng: and the worst will blushe, in the beholdyng of the vertues of other, when the burthen of their owne vices cōdempneth theim, as idell drones of the common [Page] wealth. And surely in myne opinion, the nexte waie to make a nomber of meete members (to the state wee dwell in) is to giue them that deserue, as mutche renowne as can bee clapped on their shulders: and followe with infamie the base mynded fellowe so farre, that he shall scarcely knowe, in what soile he maie hide his hedde. The noble Romains in the tyme of their greatnesse of courage and conquestes, were regestred not onely in golden bokes and monumentes: but also were made in a maner halfe gods, and more then men in any kinde of condition, or respecte.

The Lacedemonians, Athenians (and other nations, a nomber did striue so by vertue, one to excell an other) that the whole worlde to this daie, dooeth ryng of their glorie. And happie was he in those daies, that either deserued well hym self, or might finde by fine inuention and iuste cause good matter, to aduaunce any one of singulare learnyng or manhoode. But now euery manne is so couetous, and greed [...]e of fame for his owne woorkes, that fewe or none can spare any dragme or sparke of credit to an others praise and good report: by which generall ambitiō, and naughtinesse of nature, all good studies and noble enterprises, are drowned in disdaine, and little or nothyng is suffered to florishe, but that whiche Fortune preferreth, or the fonde affectiō of a multitude will commende. A custome so perillous and [Page] cankred, that I feare will ruste, and corrupte all good sciences, and bring in obliuion, better matter then I speake of, or can bee remembered. Yet some hope is left to the wise and well doer, because the honest and rieppest menne of iudgement, are glad to embrace and welcome the labours of well disposed people, and painful exercises of the learned. But now to what ende make I this florishe, and recitall of abuse in any: since I want power to reforme any one persone, enuious of others reputation. Wherefore, without further recitall of needelesse causes, I will followe the substaunce of the matter, here intended to bee written of, requiryng the readers to admit, I praised them selues (if any be praise worthie) for some warlike exercises, in the whiche consaite of theirs thei will be the better contented, to beare with the commendation of others. For if euery one were a Soldiour in deede, that readeth this volume, I knowe but a fewe would be angry, to heare of their owne glory and deseruinges. Thus committyng this discourse, to the iudgement of the wise, I commende you to the Almightie. And fall to my matter.

FINIS.

Churchyardes Choise.

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IN the renoumed raigne of that noble prince Kyng Henrie the eight, whose famous memorie, shall laste whiles this worlde standeth: All Cheualrie was cherished, Soldiours made of, and manhoode so muche esteemed, that he was thought happie and moste valiaunt, that sought credite by the exercises of Armes, and dissipline of warre. Whiche did so animate the noble mindes of men, that in a maner he was counted no bodie, that had not been knowen to bee at some valiaunte enterprice. And euery simple subiecte, was giuen to the aduaunsement of his Countrey. As the burnyng of Treporte, the winnyng of Tornay, Bullaine, and sonderie other places dooeth manifestly declare. The iourneis into Scotlande and victories there, would wearie you to reade of, and beareth yet recorde, what greate honor was in our kyng, and courage in our people. So that in this fortunate season, the whole worlde did resounde of our worthinesse, and forward desire of seruice. And then beganne M. Nicholas Malbie to fauour the warre, and take therein suche paines and delight, that in Kyng Edward the sixte his daies, the first yere of his raigne, maister Nicholas Malbie was at Gines, a Clarke of the victualles, in a reasonable good credite vnder Maister Wauller, then a speciall officer. And the second yere he was a light horseman, vnder capitaine Crayer, in the seruice of the Frenche Kyng, where was muche seruice at that presente. And in this tyme there was a practise for the takyng of Arras, which the noble men of Fraunce had deuised in this sorte: The nobilitie put them selues in Peisauntes apparell, colourablie to become prisoners to the Englishe horsemen: And so marched a foote, toward the gates of Arras, as though the Englishe horsemen of the Emperours side, had brought in certaine prisoners [Page] from the Frenche, but one Peter Androwes, a false traitour to the Englishe seruyng in Fraunce, beeyng made priuie to this practise, disclosed the matter to the Burgonions, before Mounsire Vandiuill of Graueline, wherupon a greate nomber issued out of the toune, and so a hotte skirmishe was begonne and ended, to the greate losse of the Burgonions side, and so the Frenche disapointed of their purpose, retired awaie. From thence capitain Crayer and his companie, were commaunded to Heddyng, where thei tooke diuerse greate booties, and made many spoiles, to the greate benefite of all the Englishe horsemen. I had forgotten how that the Duke de Vandome, before these exploites entered the lowe Countrey with an armie, and aboute Bottes Bulwarke, and other partes nere vnto Saincte Homers did greate harme, whiche I sawe being then a soldiour on the Emperors side, and vnder Mounsire de Rues grand maister of Flaunders. And after that Heddyng was besieged by Moūsire de Rues, and wonne in a short space, at whiche seruice was capitaine Matson, M. Richard Bingham, Willyam Hinde, and one capitaine Plonket, with a nomber of other gentlemen not here named. And at the winnyng of Torwain, these Englishmen that serued the Emperour were in like sort. From Heddyng captain Crayer with his bande, were sent three leagues further into the frontires, to a place called Farsine, whiche borders vpon the Countie of S. Poule, where there was a Castell of the Emperours called Countie, in the whiche was a bande of footemen, and an other of horsemen, who daiely skirmished with the Englishe horsemen, but alwaies the losse returned to the Burgonions side: and capitain Crayers bande gatte greate honoure, in so muche that the borders where the Englishemen serued, stoode in as good securitie, as though a nomber of other bandes had been there, to haue aided the Englishe horsemen. In deede there were suche soldiours in capitaine Crayers bande (the Malbies beeyng as then ryng leaders emong theim) as hath not been seen seruyng [Page] any where at that season, for so small a companie, and so greate value of courage and conducte. From this place this bande was placed in garrison at Mottrell (where moū sire Vilboun was gouernour) at whiche toune the twoo brethren desired the leadyng of xxiiij. of that bande, and wente with theim twelue leagues into the Burgonion Pale, to a riche village called Drues, and spoiled the same of all their cattell and riches, and brought awaie from thence eight rich prisoners, and at the requeste of the Soldiours in Mottrell, those prisoners were giuen to Mounsire Bilboe, to purchace his fauour, because he seemed to bee angrie, for the burnyng of the Abbey of S. Poule, and the Frier house there. Now at the same tyme when this bootie was gotten, and brought into Motterell, thei made open sale of the preye in the Market place, and the soldiours beeyng of the old garrison in the Toune, bloshyng at the boldnesse of the Englishemen, and disdainyng their well dooyng, (that were not of their owne nation) immediatlie beganne to spoile the bootie Maisters, and by force thought to haue reaped the laboures of others, that better deserued. Whereupon the Scottishemen of Armes, assembled in the Markette place, and takyng the Englishe mennes parte, demaunded wherefore that outrage was committed, and saied, thei would not suffer suche a follie to goe vnreuenged: For the whiche cause, and encouraging of good men, Mounsire Bilboe tooke order in the matter, committyng one of them that made the spoile, to passe the shotte of the Hargaboes without mercie, notwithstandyng the twoo brethren (seeyng that Mounsire Bilbowe fauoured so muche lawe of Armes, and dissipline of warre) made sute for the pardon of the offendour, by whiche sute and courtesie of theirs, thei conquered and obtained the loue of al the Frenche soldiours, whiche amitie after did thē as greate pleasure, as their present pitie, was a thyng to be liked. For when the Englishemen wente to any seruice, the Frenche would striue to see who could bee fauoured moste to goe in [Page] their companie. Suche force and vertue hath mercie, and gentilnesse to leade the hartes of people euery where, either toward seruice, or any other hazarde, or worthie accion, that the remembrance of mercie maie reche into, and consider of.

The Englishe beeyng commaunded then, to lye in the borders of Picardie of season (at their owne discretion, and the Countries charge) were after sent to Bohayn, and putte there in garrison, where was a Capitaine called Capitaine Hearyng, with a valiaunt bande of Gascoins, whiche ioyned with the Englishmen, and made many iournies and roades together into the Burgonion Pale: spoilyng the Countrie, and puttyng the Burgonions sondrie tymes to the worse, and endamaged the countrie so muche, and so often, that the poore people complained to the Emperour, of their Burgonion capitaines beyng many in nomber, did suffer a fewe of their aduersaries to distresse the whole Frontiers. Wherevpon Mounsire de Fammey then capitain of Laundersey (seyng the Emperour moued with this incurssion) beganne to practise by all the meanes he might, to ouerthrowe the Englishe bande, either by pollicie or Treason, and findyng a guide that alwaies had the leading of the English, when thei wēt about a bootie, Moūsire de Fammey infected this guide with a fewe Crounes, to betraie his companie, and in the meane while, againste the daie appoincted, Defammey had prepared and made readie a thousande horse, and diuerse bandes of footemen, to entrappe the Englishe soldiours of Bohain. The daie of this practise and murther approchyng, and all thyng in readinesse, the Burgonions to lye in waite, and the Englishe to issue: there fell a debate and quarrell betwene twoo Englishemen (the one called Tuttell, and the other Cheaston) whiche faulyng out, hindered their goyng to horse, and detracted tyme, in so muche this traitorous guide could not at the hower appoincted, bryng foorthe the Englishemen, nor answere the expectation of the Burgonions, and so the Capitaine of Laundersey mistrustyng the guide [Page] had deceiued hym, brake sodainly into the countrey, and fell to spoile, and to followe their moste aduauntage for the season, and beeyng many in nomber, did muche hurte aboute Gwyes, before the small power there might make any head towardes their enemies, but in conclusion, the Englishe bande (though but a fewe of them, were at that presente at Bohayn) with the helpe of capitain Hearyng, (a valiant man and leader of the Gascoins) sette vpon the Burgonions, and at the first encounter ouerthrew so many Burgonions, that the residue fledde, and made shifte for them selues, at whiche on sette and couragious charge, maister Nicholas Maelbie was sore hurte through bothe the sides, and one Ihon Daie and he beeyng by seruice drawen from their companie, in a daungerous place and plight, thei tooke greate care how to recouer their people, and in the ende to escape the hazarde, Ihon Daie carried maister Malbie on his backe, till a horsemanne by chaunce happened to come, and comforte theim both. Mounsire Deffammey by meanes of a blowe that Ned Driuer had giuen him on the hedde peece, was faine to kepe his Beauer doune a long season, and taried al a whole night in a woodde the meane while.

A none after this bickeryng, the Frenche kyng made a Proclamation, that all his Garrisons should repaire vnto Reins in Schampanie, at whiche tyme there was a secrete speache of battaile, betwene the Emperour and the Frenche kyng, for the whiche cause all the bandes and garrisons that might be made, with greate expedition repaired to the place appoincted for the fight. And beyng assembled together, thei encamped, and so the Frenche kyng marched towardes Meattes in Lorraine, where he vsed suche pollicie and faire speache, that he wanne the toune (without bloodshed) tooke the Duke of Lorraine, and sente hym safely into Fraunce. And from Meattes the kyng marched vnto Speeres in Almaignie, where he had a certaine masse of money. And so to Stroseborough, the kyng giuyng order that the Englishe [Page] horsemen (and others that serued as vaunt currours) should ride about the countrey, and spoile what thei thought good. Maister Nicholas Malbie beyng left at sainct Quintaines, to bee healed of his hurte as you haue heard: had his brother Ihon Malbie in the campe with the Frenche king, who ioyned an other gentleman vnto hym called George Liell, and thei twoo seekyng aduentures, mette twoo gentlemen Almaines, well mounted and appointed, but the twoo English men charged them, and tooke them prisoners, and possessed their Borespeares, and other weapōs of warre. But George Liell hauyng somewhat to amende, deliuered his prisonar his Borespeare to hold, because he could not hymself amende his thinges, and holde his Borespeare at that instaunte, the prisoner seyng his aduauntage, thruste the Borespeare vnder the armour of George Lyell, and so slue hym, he giuyng his laste gaspe and wofull crie, made maister Ihon Malbie looke behinde hym, who findyng his fellowe dedde, ran hastely on the Almaine, and in that charge slewe hym, and so forthwith set vppon the other prisoner with like determination, the other Almaine fell on his knees and asked mercie, vppon whiche submission he was saued, and ledde awaie by Ihon Malbie, where other Englishemen attended to heare some newes. And hearyng of this straunge cace, thei altogether repaired where the twoo dedde bodies were, and buried them bothe, as the tyme and place did permit.

The Frenche Kyng marchyng from Stroseborough, came to a strong toune called Domuiell, whiche the Kyng besieged, and the assaulte beyng readie to be giuen, the capitaine of the saied toune came, and rendered it to the kynges handes▪ in whiche toune was left a sufficient Garrison. And the Campe retired for that yere, and broke vp at Reines in Schampaine, where the kyng paied his armie for fiue Monethes, and those he kepte in wages, were commaunded to lye in Garrisons, the Englishe bande was appoincted to remaine at Abontton, fiue leagues from Gwies, to whiche [Page] place was now Maister Nicholas Malbie come, and there the twoo brothers shewed suche courtesie to a gentleman of Yorkeshire, as is worthie the remembraunce, and seldome hath been seen in a straunge lande, and harde season. At Abantton were many honest and valiaunt soldiours Englishe gentlemen, as maister Iames Crues, Nedde Driuer, Humfrey Blont, and a nomber of others that accompanied the twoo brethren. Whose names I would gladlie shewe, because those gentlemen did suche seruice in those daies, (and beyonde the seas) as thei deserue to be honoured for thesame in their owne Countrie whiles the worlde lasteth, but hauyng forgotte moste of their names, I proceede to my former matter. From Abantton the Englishe bande were cō maunded to lye at sainct Quintains, where liyng but a season, thei were emploied for the furnishyng of a ronnyng Campe, appoincted to marche into the Countie of Saincte Poule, and in this exploite Sainct Poule was burnte, and spoiled, and many villages there aboutes brought to vtter ruine and mischeef.

The Emperoure to reuenge these iniuries, sente into Fraunce an other runnyng Campe, entryng at Noua Chatteau, and did muche hurte in many places, albeeit the Englishemen were so often in the skirtes of the Burgonions, that thei could not doe many tymes what thei intended, thei were by the Englishemen kept so well occupied, and daiely waited on. The Burgonions beyng thus nettled and vexed (by a fewe in comparison of their greate nomber) began politikely to woorke, and so laied an ambushment, to entrappe Capitaine Crayer and his bande, and placyng fiftie Spanyardes all horsed vppon gallant Genettes, to breake vppon the Englishe horsemen. It came to passe by occasion of seruice, that sodainly thei brake on capitain Crayer, who wheelyng about for his moste succour, had not his horse so readie, as he was disposed to tourne him, and there withall his horse stombled, and fell flatte on the yearth, in whiche faule Capitaine [Page] Crayer was taken, and the residue of the enemies retired towardes their ambushe, whiche laye a league from the place, where capitaine Crayer was taken. And yet vpon aduisemeante, (and hope of good happe to bee gotten, by some hazard presently offred,) the Englishmen grewe so warme, that thei had the enemie in chace, and in the ende the broile and businesse began to be so hotte, that bothe sides were Pell Mell. Ihon Malbie beyng in a Swarffe rotters garmente girded on his armour, was taken to bee one of the Spaniardes owne troupe, and knowyng hym self not farre from the Englishe companie, he plucked out of a Spaniardes handes, the raines of his horses bridell, and caried hym ouer the Brooke perforce, where was one of the Englishe bande, that challenged halfe of the bootie, and stroue so for that was not his owne, that the prisoner lost his life in the pleadyng of the matter. Whiche prisoner had he been voide of that brabble, might haue paied a good and reasonable raunsome.

Now on the takyng of capitaine Crayer, was capitaine Clauers his lieutenaunt made leader of fiftie horsemen, and he chose maister Nicholas Malbie his lieutenaunt, vpon the erection of whiche bande, or immediatlie after the Emperour besieged Heddyng, and Capitaine Clauers bande beeyng commaunded to keepe vppon the Frontires, happened vpon the Prince of Oranges bande (whiche had been in the countrey spoilyng as thei might) and findyng the Prince of Oranges bande in a maner tired, set on them so couragiously, that thei gaue them the chace, where was thirtie or fortie prisoners taken, and maister Nicholas Malbie tooke a gentleman of the Princes chamber, and M. Ihon Sauage tooke another of the Prince of Oranges troup, whiche were well vsed, and suffered on their faithe to goe where thei would, shewyng them selues at night to their taker. But twoo of the worste of those prisoners stoale awaie, and their fellowe had been like to haue been straightly handeled therevppon, but fauour was founde, and he sente by a Trompette to the [Page] Emperours Campe for all their ransomes whiche was but quartarage (a courtezie then vsed emong Soldiours) and so sone as the Princes gentilman came before the Prince, he complained of his companions, for breakyng of their faithe: for whiche cause a poste was presently sette vp, and the prisoners lost bothe their eares on the same post, and after thei were banished the Campe for euer. The Prince paied all their raunsomes, and giuyng a reward of tenne crounes to the Trompetor, sent hym safely awaie in like sorte.

At the siege of Heddyng Capitaine Clauers was taken prisoner, and maister Nicholas Malbie had the leadyng of al his men, and hauyng occasion to ride to Paris, he lette his charge to his brother Ihon till he retourned: His brother as desirous of fame as any other (after he and his bande laye awhile at Braie vpon some ingarrison) made many rodes into the Burgonion pale, and committed greate spoiles. Whiche the capitaine of Beawpawlme sought to reuenge.

And vpon a Sondaie at Masse tyme in the mornyng, he brake into the Frontires with a greate troupe of horsemen, and tooke a greate bootie from the toune that the Englishemen laye in, whereon there was a larum, that euery man in all haste mounted to horse, and followed the enemies in suche a furie, that in rescuyng one of their owne people, the enemies were betweene some of the Englishe bande and the toune, but Ihon Malbie and an other were in greatest hazarde, for thei twoo hauyng taken twoo prisoners, were faine to plucke the bridelles ouer the horses heddes, pricking the horses in the buttockes, to the ende the enemies might bee occupied, about the recouerie of their owne menne. And when the prisoners were let go in this maner, thei ventered through the troupe of the enemies, offeryng their Pistolles from one to an other, till thei had passed through the thickest and at the laste slue one, and ouerthrewe an other, and tooke the third prisoner, and brought hym horse and man into the toune. The tounes menne and nobilitie (emong the whiche [Page] was capitaine Gordant now capitaine of Calice) beholdyng this boldenesse, aduertised the Frenche kyng of the seruice, who rewarded at the nexte paie daie Ihon Malbie, with a good somme of money. For that a kyng would not forgette suche an acte, nor let suche seruice eskape vnrecompensed.

The nexte Sondaie (after this businesse rehersed) the capitaine Beauppawm came againe with a troupe of fiue hundreth horsemen, and a regimente of three thousande footemenne. And to encounter theim marched fiftie Englishe horsemen, and as many others of the Albanoies (whiche serued before at Bulleyn) with a fewe gentlemen of Fraunce, puttyng them selues in good order as nere as thei could, vnder the succour of the greate ordinaunce of the toune. So beyng abroade the skirmishe began to bee so hotte, that no one of the Garrison retourned to the toune, without his Launce broken. And the Albanoies bande serued so valiauntly, that eche of them brake twoo staues vpon the enemies, in which hazard and couragious seruice, their lieutenaunt was taken prisoner. But an Englisheman called Willyam Spencer, seruyng in the Albanoies bande, beholdyng his lieutenaunt taken, cried a charge, a charge, and therewith all flue in emōg his aduersaries so furiouslie, and fought with suche courage and manhoode, that he set the lieutenaunt at libertie, and so recouered the toune. And at that tyme was taken fiue horsemen Burgonions, and brought to the toune, and one horseman was taken awaie prisoner, and brought to Beuppaum.

That daie capitain Twettie desired Ihon Malbie, to goe with hym into the feelde a foote, and thei hauyng but tenne Pikes, and one and twentie shot, withstoode fiftie horsemen, and slue diuerse of thē, the Skottes men beholdyng that seruice, gaue all the honour of that daie to the Englishe nation.

At that seruice was a worthie Capitaine called Gurdan, before spoken of, whose bande and hymself, surmounted the reste in the feelde, and came with greate glorie to the toune.

Now the whole companie that serued in that peece, assembled [Page] them selues together and deuised, how to reuenge the iniuries at twoo seuerall seasons, offered to them by the Burgonions: and concluded that all the Garrisons nere thē on the Frontires, should meete at a daie appoincted, for the skalyng of Bauppaum on the soddaine. And in the meane while Ihon Malbie wente towardes Bauppaum with the Englishe band, and tooke with hym thirtie or fourtie pound of matches, whiche was tied vpon cordes and lines twentie fadome long, and euery mache halfe a yarde a sonder, and for euery line was twoo stakes prepared breast hye, to bee sette in the grounde when the matches were a fire. The night beyng darke, and the matches beeyng espied (after thei were pitched) of the Soldiours in Baupaum thei tooke alarum, and the Englishmen that deuised this mockerie, cried skale the waules, and so priuily stoale awaie, but thei within the toune of Bauppaum bent all their ordinaunce vpon the matches, and shotte at them all the night after, pliyng the matches with small shotte in like sort, whiche was a great madnesse and follie, as thei them selues cōfessed. When thei daie appeared and made theim iudges of their owne ouersight and matter mistaken.

In the necke of this, but three nightes after thei came in deede, with their whole garrisons vppon the Frontire, and brought Lathers for to skale the waules, and aproched nere the toune for that purpose in a verie darcke night, and in passyng good order, but the Ladders beyng set to the walles, as secretly as might bee deuised, thei were faine to withdrawe them againe, because thei were to shorte, and the noyes that the Ladders made awakened the watche, and thereon a terrible larum began in the toune whiche had been taken, if the Ladders had been long enough. For thei that came to surprise it, were fiftene thousande footemen, and twoo thousande horsemen well and throughly furnished, for a noble enterprise.

Whiche power disappointed of their purpose, entered the [Page] countrey, burnyng and spoilyng as muche as thei might euery waie, for the space of a whole daie, and then euery one retired to their garrisons, from whence thei repaired before.

And within a shorte season after, the Emperour besieged Mettes in Lorrain with a greate armie, the Frenche kyng on that newes sent many bandes thether, emong the whiche the Englishe bande was placed twelue leagues from Mettes, where thei daiely annoied their enemies, and sondrie tymes tooke many, prisoners and spoiled the Forrengers horses, and other necessaries verie often, and grewe so riche by the raūsomes and spoiles thei had gotten, that their enemies laied many a staille and trappe to take them in, but that preuailed not. For their Fortune and courage brought theim through many daungers, and made them as muche feared, as their were spoken of, and more spoken of, then tenne tymes so greate a companie.

The siege of Mettes continued aboute a whole yere, and it was thought that there laye before the Toune sixe score thousande menne in paie, emong whiche nomber was suche mortalitie and Plague, that it was a wonder to rehearse it. For thei died sometymes twoo thousande a daie, by whiche mischeef and miserie, the Emperour raised his Campe, and yet was faine to leaue in cabbens sicke behinde hym, twelue or thirteene thousande Almaines, whiche could not marche awaie. The Duke of Gwies beyng generall of the Toune, seeyng those poore Soldiours lefte to the mercie of God, or murther that manne liste to commit, thought it not fitte to put them to the sworde. And so vpon aduice and sute of their generall thei were releeued, and as many as liued, were sent home without raunsome: whiche courtesie of the Duke of Gwise, was well remembred and requited ten yeres after this. For some saie that those Almaines seruyng the Prince of Condie, at the battell of Drues, whē thei sawe the Gwise, thei caste doune their Pikes, keepyng their promised vowe, whiche was neuer to beare armes in feelde againste hym: [Page] that had saued their liues, and dooen them so greate a good tourne at Mettes.

The siege of Mettes beyng raised, as you haue heard, the Englishe bande was commaunded to lye in Picardy, where the Duke of Vandome was lieutenaunt, who heard that the Emperoure was commyng towardes Amiance with a puissaunt power, and to encounter hym the Duke reised as many soldiours as he might, and so kepte the Frontires till the Emperours power came, and shewed them selues with in twoo leagues of the Citie of Amiance: then greate was the Alarum, and euery man to horse, and a maruelous braue companie issued out of the toune to giue battaill, and trie the vttermoste of Fortune. And so well thei agreed together, and were so gallauntlie disposed, that one of them swore to an other, neuer to departe without blood, nor neuer to retourne again into the toune, without doyng of some exploit. The Emperoures power were in like disposion, and so the Trompettes on bothe sides sounded, as heauen and yearth should haue ioyned together. Then the Englishe bande prouoked the skirmishe, and so the bloodie broile began hotter and hotter, in so muche that the horsemen ioyned, and came to hande strokes, where many a Launce was broken, and many a man laie grouelyng on the ground, some vnder their horses, and some strikē from their horses backes, suche was the terrour of the tyme and furie of the fight. And Mounsire Dangwion brother to the Duke Vandome loste no tyme, but charged Mounsire Benyngcourtes bande, or Mounsire Derues his companie. The Prince of Condie and Duke D'onmall charged on the Duke Deaskot and Mounsire Demberies bandes, and withall came in the residue of the Frenche and Burgonion companies, and stoode so manfully to their businesse, that the conflicte on bothe sides was greate, and the victorie hanged long in ballaunce, in so muche it was doubtfull to whether partie good Fortune would fall, but in fine the Burgonions fledde towardes the woodde, where all [Page] their force of footemen stoode, and in that encoūter and bloodie fight, the Prince of Pianoyes was smored to death in his armour, the Duke of Askotte compelled to creepe, and lye in a woodde all night, where the Peisantes on the morrowe tooke him, and fifteene hundreth prisoners more were ledde awaie with the Duke by the Frenchemen. And when the vieue was made at their returne to Amiance of their losse, the Frenchemen missed many of their owne people (especily of the Citie) and many by meane of their valiauncie, were come home sore wounded, mangled, and out of hope to liue any long season, the fight had been so daungerous and cruel, that fewe whiche were desirous of fame, escaped skotfree from the conflicte.

The Emperour not long after this broile, gathered his people together, and came to Vallencian with a great army: but the French kyng gathered in a maner suche a multitude of soldious (wherein was muche Nobilitie) that it was gessed his Campe was at the leaste fiftie thousande horsemen and footemen, and hymself in persone noblie mounted, marched towardes Valencian, where he founde the Emperoure entrenched, and passyng before the Emperour with his vawwarde (wherein was sixe thousande horsemen, and twentie thousande footemen) the Frenche kyng presented the Emperour battall, who had out of his trenche certaine Spanishe and Italian horsemen, with a small troupe of Launces, on the whiche companie the Frenchemen offered skirmishe, and the skirmishe grewe so hotte, that a charge was giuen, wherein was prisoners taken at the verie entrie of the trenches, so that the Emperoures power beeyng not twentie thousande, were faine to tarrie in their Trenches all that season.

The Frenche kyng seeyng this, and commyng from his maine battaile on a barbed horse, with a goodlie troupe of braue gentlemen, made no more a dooe, but shewed hym self in the feelde, and marched so awaie, makyng his waweward [Page] his rereward, and his maine battaile his waweward, yet I maie not forgette that sondrie in his companie were hurte, emong the whiche M. Nicholas Malbies horse (a bastarde courser) was shotte through the necke, and in at the reines of the backe behinde the saddell, whiche horse when he was whole, was giuen to the lorde Grey of Wilton, then lieutenaunt of Gynes.

Now the Emperour bearyng in minde, the braue offer the Frenche kyng had made, as here before is expressed, he sent Mounsire graunde Maister, as generall of a greate armie, to besiege Torwain shortly after (a toune of greate momente, and well fortified) to whiche siege (so soone as the Frenche heard of it) was sente Memorancie that now is liuyng, to assiste Mounsire Dessie then capitaine of Torwain, a man of greate vallue, for the same Dessie was before generall of all the Frenchemen, that besieged Sir Iames Wilforde at Haddyngton in Scotlande. Now Mounsire Memorancie bryngyng with hym diuers gentlemen (for the aidyng of Mounsire Dessie in Torwain) determined to dooe some good seruice, and the Frenche kyng in the meane while leauied thirtie thousande men, to remoue the siege if it were possible, or at least to releeue the toune in some sorte, as the tyme would suffer. Where vpon diuers capitaines and gentlemen requested, that thei might be the firste that should enter the toune, emong whiche was M. Nicholas Malbie, the kyng graunted their requeste, and prepared pouder in bagges, and other munition for them to carrie with them, that toke this enterprise in hand, thus one Humfrey Hassock and a gentleman called Ihon Griffin, with twoo other called Poell and Kockes, ioyned with three score Frenchemen (M. Nicholas Malbie beeyng with theim) and passed through the Emperoures Campe with greate hazarde, and so entered Torwain, whiche gaue no little comforte to them that were besieged.

Then vppon the hope of the kynges commyng and other [Page] causes, thei fallied daiely out of the toune, and did often annoye the Burgonions Campe. And one daie the watche espiyng a bande of footemen liyng louse from their succoure, vnder a banke, gaue warnyng thereof to the capitaine of the toune, who sent on the spurre the Frenche horsemen, to giue charge vppon them. And maister Malbie espiyng when he came neare them, that thei were Englishemen seruyng the Emperours side, badde theim goe awaie, or els thei should be cutte all in peeces: Goe awaie that is aferde saied Nicholas Sibbill, a valiaunte gentleman: The Alarum then was giuen, and the Frenche footemen approched, and so capitain Sibbell was slaine, and sondrie others of his companie defeated, and Humfrey Hassocke hauyng a redde dubblet, was taken to bee a Burgonion, and so vnhorsed. But M. Malbie seyng his seruaunt in daunger to bee slaine succoured hym, by a charge he gaue on those that would haue killed his mā, and brought his seruaunt to the toune with muche a doe, the soldiours on the walles beholdyng thesame, commended the acte verie muche.

Thus euery second or third daie thei sallued out, and slue in the feelde and in the trenches many soldiours, but still the Englishemen gatte greate praise, for their stoute and desperate aduentures.

The Capitaine of the toune walkyng on the walles, and notyng how busilie the Canons went of against the breach, came doune and deuised that bothe horsemen and footemen, should sodainly make a sallie out of the toune, and so thei did, but though the Campe semed to bee quiet, and did nothyng but plie the Batterie, thei were well prouided to resiste the force of the Frenche, and at their issuyng out, there was a verie greate skirmishe. And an Almaine beeyng an armed Pike, marched brauely out of the Campe vpon some lustie conceipte, vnto whom rode maister Nicholas Malbie, and brake his staffe on hym, and so the Almaine was slaine. For whiche seruice Mounsire Memorancie, and the Capitain of [Page] the Toune came and embraced hym when he retourned, and gaue hym bothe a reward, and thankes for his labour.

But after this toune was helde so shorte, that the soldiours could issue no more, for a generall assaulte was daiely looked for, and the breache beyng assaultable, the Burgonions attempted the assaulte, Capitaine Gonnie hauyng the leadyng thereof (with whom I was in wages) but capitain Gonnies bande and all the reste were repulsed, to their greate rebuke and losse, notwithstandyng an other assaulte was a preparyng for, and the greate shotte went of so fast, that thei within the toune were faine to holde in their heddes, a great tyme. But Mounsire Dessie aduaunsyng hym self a little to hye, (for to discouer the meanyng of his enemies) was striken in the hedde with a little shotte, and yeeldyng vp the ghost, spake certaine manly wordes, and so fell doune dedde.

Then the toune was somewhat discouraged, and came to a composition, howbeit a midde the Parley, the Spaniardes brake into the toune, and did muche mischeef, yet the composition was, that all of the Toune, of what degree so euer thei were should become prisoners, because thei abode the assault and stoode so long in their defence, against a mightie power and shotte of the Cannon. Maister Nicholas Malbie was prisoner to a Spaniard, for whose raunsome capitain Matson (a honest Englishe gentleman) was aunswerable, and so maister Malbie retourned to Muttrell, where the Duke of Vandome embrased hym, and tooke hym to the Frenche Courte, who beeyng there presented to the Frenche Kyng, was muche made of by the Dukes meanes, and bountifully rewarded without suyng for thesame (as good soldiours bee in many places,) and so he was sente to Braye againe to lye in Garrison there, till thei were remoued to Amiance. And when the whole bande was come thether, the Countrey furnished maister Malbies soldiours with all kinde of victuall, by the kynges commaundement.

The Spryng commyng on, all the Frenche Garrisons, [Page] and Englishe Soldiours were commaunded, to make their repaire to sainct Quintaines, where the Kyng assembled his power, and marched into Henault, where he tooke a Toune called Synnie, and from thence went and besieged Marryngbrough, a verie strong toune, whiche was yeelded vnto hym within fourtene daies: A garrison of the Gascoins was lefte therein, and the Campe marched to a Castell called Denouanter. In whiche Castell Iullian Romero was, and had with hym fiue hundred Spaniardes, and as many Almains that valiauntly defended it, in so muche that there was diuers bandes and Capitaines, that refused to assault the saied Castell. The kyng hearyng thereof, called those capitaines and bandes before hym: and caused them to be degrated, and committed them to the Spade and Mattocke (whiche is as much dishonor as a soldior maie suffer) but there was great sute made by the Duke of Vandome and the nobilitie, for to restore them to their honour againe. Whiche suite the Kyng would not heare, nor giue any grace vnto. The companie degrated on knees, besought the kyng that thei might goe and winne their credite againe at the assault: The kyng hardlie graunted that, but seeyng thei sought to serue, and doe their duetie, the kyng badde theim make newe blacke Ensignes, and saied, suche as could winne their old Armes by manhod, at their retourne from the assaulte, thei should be restored to their first degree of honour. Wherevpon the assault was giuen, and verie many of those men made there, their laste seruice for euer, but their manlinesse and furious approche, was occasion that the Castell was rendered shortly after to the kyng, and suche as retourned from that assaulte, were muche made of againe, and grewe in greate fauour with other soldiours euer after.

The Castell beyng randered, Capitaine Iullian marched Ensigne displaied, armor and weapon, bagge and baggage, (with Wagons for their hurte men) and so he and his soldiours, were conueyed saffely to Mowns in Henaulte, where [Page] Iullian made the Wagomers greate cheare, and gaue them good rewardes.

Within three daies after, the Castell was vndermined and blowen vp, and the Campe marched from thence to Cambraie, where the Emperour was with a greate Camp, whiche Campe laye within three leages of the Freche kynges, in a night before the kyng marched forwarde, so that there was Alarum giuen to the kynges Campe, and many issued out to the skirmishe, in whiche skirmishe albeeit it was hotte, maister Nicholas Malbie beyng vnarmed, tooke an armed man from his companie, and brought hym prisoner into the Frenche Campe.

In that season D. Wotton was Embassador in France for Queene Marie, who commaunded all the Englishemen to retire home, or serue the Emperour: The twoo brothers hearyng of that Proclamation, toke their leaue of Fraunce, and came to the Emperour, who gaue them fiftie crounes a peece euery Monethe, and so waited on the Emperour, to raise the siege of Renttie, where the Frenche king had laine three weekes before, with fourtie thousande menne, and had battered it verie sore, and was likely to haue wonne it, had not the Emperour prepared to giue the Frenche kyng battaile, and come thether in tyme. But the Frenche kynges fourtie thousande, might not fight with sixe score thousande. And yet the Frenche kyng shotte of his Batterie, in the full hearyng of the Emperour, and would not withdrawe neuer a peece of his ordinaunce from the breach, although the Emperours Campe came in a merueilous brauerie, and approched nere vnto Renttie.

The Batterie was so plied, that it went of from Sunne risyng to Sunne sette, and neuer seased, whiche made the Emperours Soldiours meruell, and therefore the soner to shewe some noble seruice. Notwithstandyng, for fourteene daies the Batterie seased not, these twoo Princely Campes liyng all that while, within one league of an other, a [Page] meruell of the worlde how suche a sorte of people, could bee so long kept a sonder.

Then Martine van Rous an Almaine, seruyng with fifteene thousande soldiours, saied to the Emperour, it was a greate scorne, to see his enemies lye so nere hym in quiet, on whiche speeches Martin van Rous was sente, to ioyne with the Duke of Sauoye, and many Spaniard and Italian bandes, and so to sette vppon the Frenchemen, that laye in a woodde betwene Renttie and the Emperours Campe, and to attende vpon those companies was appoincted Count de Horne, with fiue hundreth Pistoliers Roittars, and certain other bandes that serued as winges, to Vanrowses regimēt.

So these people well bent and sette in order, marched towardes the woodde, and the Spaniardes on greate peril entered the woodd couragiously, where thei founde a hotte and daungerous businesse, and were sharpely encountered, but thei behaued them selues so stoutly, that with muche a dooe thei made the Frenche retire to their maine battaill, and whole Campe, whiche was within a quarter of mile of the woodde. The Duke of Sauoye with certain bandes of horse men and footemen, accompanied with Martin van Rous, and the Count de Horne, marched on the plaine vntill thei came to the wooddes ende, where thei founde the kynges battaill readie to present the combate, or giue the assaulte to the peece, that so long he had besieged.

The Englishe and Scottes horsemen that serued the Frenche kyng, were in a troupe together in a valley, where thei prouoked the skirmishe. The Barron of Kyrtton who was a moste valliaunte gentilman, charged vpon a bande of Spaniardes horsemen, and cleane defeatted theim. The Count da Horne seeyng that slaughter and ouerthrowe, charged the Barron of Kyrttons bande, (whiche was a little out of order, by meane of their furie) and so ran through them euery man, as though thei had been a fewe children in his waie. Suche is the aduauntage of disorder, who wiselle [Page] can take it.

In whiche charge the noble Barron was taken prisoner, and brought by one of the bande to the Count de Horne, the Counte seeyng hym tooke out a Pistolet, and presented the shotte to his breast, but he was so well armed, that the shott could not enter: The Barron beholdyng by this outragious deede a bloodie murtheryng mynde craued mercie, and told the Count that he was a noble man, and would giue a noble raunsome, who answered, that he should haue a noble death, because he should bee killed at a noble mannes handes, and with that woorde slue hym, whiche was against all ciuill order, or lawe of Armes, but note what followed. The Duke Domale in the ende of this crueltie and encounter, charged the Count de Hornes bande (with a braue companie of men at Armes) and ouerthrewe moste of the Count de Hornes people, and defeitted them all, or carried them awaie prisoners with hym. And in that charge giuen, there was a companie of Frenche footemen, whiche sette vpon the Spaniardes and Italians in the woodde, and draue theim out of the same, and possessed the woodde againe, to the greate discourage of the other partie: whiche Frenchemen entrenched thē selues in the saied woodde, as surely as thei could.

The Englishe and Scottes men beeyng well mounted, and desirous of some honour, beholdyng what good successe the Duke had founde, by the valliaunt charge he had giuen. Thei sodainely brake vppon van Rousis Launceknightes, with a greate shoute and crie, who amased at the noyse (and afferde of the charge) flang doune their weapons, and betoke them to their feete: whiche ouersight, and feblenesse of spirit in theim, was occasion of a greate slaughter. For when the Englishe and Scottes horsemen, were a wearie of killyng the poore Almaines, thei tooke prisoners some one man ten, or twelue a peece, as was crediblie reported.

So that in a maner moste of all van Rousis Ensignes were troden vppon, or taken from them that carried them. [Page] The Emperour was somewhat moued at this misfortune, and determined the nexte daie in the Mornyng, to giue the Frenche kyng battaill. The Frenche kyng on that victorie, sent a Harralde of Armes with a Trompet to the Emperour, declaryng vnto hym, that within fower and twentie howres, he would meete hym in the feelde. For whiche message the Herralde had a good rewarde, and the Emperour was glad, that so honourable an acte as was offered, should ende the quarrell betwene the Frēche kyng and him.

The fame night beyng well spent, and thynges in order for battaill, the Emperour caused the Drommes and Trō pettes to sounde, and strike a marche to the feelde: for that he would by the breake of the daie, behold his enemies power. The Frenche Kyng beeyng a beaten Soldiour with many daungerous seruices, (and lookyng into the daunger of an exstreme fight, for a wearied armie) tooke compassion on his ouerlaboured menne of warre, that had lyen in the open feelde all that yere, and so without sounde of Dromme, or any noyes makyng, he retired his Batterie, caused his footemen to marche quietly towardes Muttrell (whiche thei recouered before the breake of the daie) and the kyng with the reste of his armie at midnight, priuelie withdrewe hym sel and his power, from daunger of the Emperours Campe.

Placyng his horsemen in the reergarde, to tarrie till the Emperour were readie to marche: who had intelligence of the Frenche Kynges priuie practises and departure. And thereon gaue commaundemente to followe with all expedition (the horsemen hauyng that in charge) to see if thei could ouertake any of the Frenche kynges armie, especiallie the footemen.

The Duke Denamores attendyng on certaine straglars in goyng out of a woodde to the plaine, happened with his whole bande on Capitaine Stukeleis troupe (who all that iourney, and at sondrie other seruices had dooen merueilous actes) in whiche troupe was the twoo brethren, maister Nicholas[Page]Malbie and Ihon. And the Duke Denamores was no soner espied, but capitain Steukely and his troupe charged hym, who fled as fast as he might, to recouer some freendes and Ihon Malbie beyng well horssed, put the Duke to leape hedge and dicke, till he mette with a bande of men at Armes, which the Englishmen wer not strong enough to deale with all, and so thei retired. M. Richard Bingham at this seruice.

And in that retiryng thei mette with the Emperoure, who gaue them greate thankes, and rewarded hym that deserued moste praise.

The Emperour liyng at Renttie fiue or sixe daies, caused the breache to be made vp againe, and that beyng dooen, he commaunded the Duke of Sauoye (beyng his Lieutenant generall) to make his repaire to Heddyng with his whole Campe. Where he made a verie strong Toune, and there was not a noble manne in that Campe, but for to giue good example, putte once a daie his handes to the Baskette and Spade. And euery soldiour had a double paie, so long as the woorke was a buildyng: where there was in wages a hundreth thousande daiely, whereof some were suffered to make roades into Picardie, and many bootes gotten, emong the reste the Spaniardes had gotten a greate bootie, beyng accompanied with the Burgonions in the same attempte, and commyng into the Campe with their preye and spoile, thei were to passe by the Almaines Campe, or quarter whiche thei kepte. The Almaines seyng a greate compaie, desirous of spoile, or glad to make a mutenie: fell to take some shepe, and what els thei thought good from the Spaniardes, the Spaniardes thereon made Alarum. The Duke of Sauoye knowyng of this vpprore, gallopped with his bande emong the Almaines, and tooke diuerse sedicious fellowes, and committed them to the Prouost, and one manne emong them, retained to a noble man of Germanie, whiche came to the Duke, and did request hym to spare his manne, and pardon his offence: the Duke aunswered, he should suffer for his [Page] follie committed, the noble manne spake againe, in so muche that the Duke was displeased at the suite. The other seyng he could finde no fauour, tolde the Duke in a rude maner, that if he were not a Lieutenaunte generall ouer hym, he should not put his man to death, the Duke made no more a doe, but tooke out a Pistolet that was bente, and discharged it vpon the noble man, and so slue hym. The Almaines and Roiters therevpon armed them selues, and put them in order of battaill. The Spaniardes, Italians, and Burgoniōs presently repaired to the Dukes Pauilion. The Prince of Orrange and many other noble personages, came betwene the twoo powers, and made a peace, and so the businesse ended, whiche at the beginnyng, was like to haue come to a greate flaughter and bloodshed.

Now for the better contentation of the Almaines, there was a roade made vnto Muttrell, and twentie thousande Almaines appointed to bee at the winnyng of the bootie, where was a greate skirmishe prouoked, and at that tyme Capitaine Steukeleis horse was killed vnder hym, when he gaue a valliaunt charge on his enemies.

There was a challenge made by the Frenchmen, for the breakyng of certaine Launces for their mestresse sakes. To aunswere the chalenge went a Portugall, a greate companion with the Duke of Sauoye, and one capitaine Tother an Albanoies (sometyme seruyng in Englande) was an other. And the thirde was a gentleman called Ambrose Digbie, who encountred a valliaunt horseman named Petro Strose, and thei brake bothe the one vpon the other: Ambrose Digbies horse was somewhat strong hedded, and bare his Maister awaie into the Frenche troupe, where the Duke Denamoures courteoussie asked hym, if any thing were amisse in his armour, in purpose to amende it, (yet the Duke was a greate freende to Petro Strose, for Strose was his Lieutenaunt) Ambrose Digbie aunswered, that all was well, and gaue the Duke and the gentlemen greate thankes for their [Page] courtesie, and so gallowped to the other side at his pleasure. Petro Strose in like sorte went backe againe to his owne cō panie. For capitain Tother was not so fortunate that daie as couragious: for he ranne thre courses one after an other, and could not breake, and the Frenchman that ran against hym, brake euery course his lance, the reasons was, why capitain Tother brake not, alwaies at the couchyng of the Launce, his horse flang out, whiche moued the gētleman very muche and for whiche foule condition, he gaue the horse immediately awaie. The Portugall beyng brauely horsed vpon a baye courser, had not worse happe then courage. For he brake full in the face of the [...]eue [...], it was thought that he that ranne against hym, was the Barron of Burnasell, who brake in like maner alwaies vpon the Portugall.

In the meane tyme there was diuerse bandes, that had gotten a greate bootie, and spoile in the Countrey, whiche contented muche the Almaines, who with their spoile and bootie, were retired to the campe, whereof intelligence beyng giuen to the Duke, he caused a retraite to bee sounded, and euery man marched forward to the Campe.

But the Frenche waited on them, and skirmished all the waie, where good seruice was to bee seen on bothe sides, so thei departed the one side to the Campe, and the other side to Muttrell.

When thei were in the campe, and the Duke in his Pauillion at supper, there was greate commendation giuen to the Portugall, for the beste dooer that daie, he hearyng his owne praise, replied and saied, he should but flatter hymself, to beleeue that reporte to be true, since all men might see the Englishe gentleman ranne with the greatest Launce, and brake moste fairest, and especially, because he ranne againste Petro Strose, who was counted to be one of the valliauntest gentlemen of Fraunce: so with this and suche like talke, thei rose from the table.

When this Toune called newe Heddyng was finished, [Page] there was lefte in the same a verie greate Garrison, bothe of Burgonions and Almaines, and then the Campe was dispersed, and many soldiours cashed, and put out of wages.

Wherevppon the twoo brothers, thought to make their repaire into Englande, to whiche place the Duke of Sauoye was goyng, and so with hym thei came ouer, and attended on hym three Monethes, and came againe to the seruice of the Emperour, where thei remained, vntill an Armie was appointed to goe to Sainct Quintaines. The noble Erle of Penbroke being Lorde lieutenaunt (for that seruice) ouer the Englishe Armie, in whiche regiment M. Nocholas Malbie had charge of fiftie light horsemen. The Armie liyng betwene Gynes and Arde, the garrison of Arde beyng strong issued out, and gaue our Campe Alarum, and our Englishe menne vnacquainted with that kinde of noyes, and order of warre, were in a maner a mased, some ronnyng one waie, and some an other, and one George Broughton, hauyng the leadyng of fiftie horsemen, went out of the Campe, and was immediatly encountred with a bande of Frenchemen, who charged so furiouslie, that thei wanne the Gydon of George Broughtons bande, and carried it awaie. Nicholas Malbie commyng from the scoute with his bande, and hearyng the Larum without the Campe, made his repaire with certain of his companie, where he mette with Broughton, who said he had loste his Gydon, vppon that newes maister Malbie caused all his companie to retourne, and make haste to ouertake the Frenche, whiche thei ouertooke at the tournepike, and so sharpely dealt with them, that the Gydon was recouered againe, by maister Malbies owne hande, who brought it hym self, and deliuered it vnto George Broughton, that gaue hym greate thankes therefore.

Maister Broughton caused the Lorde Lieutenaunte, to promise maister Malbie a recompence for this bolde attempte, and diuerse noble men commended the seruice, vpon the report of suche as sawe it.

[Page]The next daie the Campe remoued to Samedeboyes, and so toward Sainct Quintaines, where kyng Phillip was besiegyng the toune, with a mightie Armie, whiche had ouerthrowen moste of the nobilitie of Fraunce, that came to succour sainct Quintaines, and the Englishe Campe beyng before the toune, was appointed to set out certaine bandes, for the goyng to the assault, emong whiche was one Capitaine Vaughan, who came to a freende of his, and desired of all freendshipp, (and for old acquaintaunce sake) to light of his horse, and goe with hym to the saulte. Now in good faithe saied Nicholas Malbie, though horsemen neuer come to the breache, with my freende I will either winne the Spurres, or loose the Saddle, and so a lighted, and went with maister Vaughan (hauyng firste procured licence of the Lorde lieutenaunt) to the assault, where the enemies were readie to defende their Toune, and their liues, yet as God would, the enemies gaue place with muche a doe, to those that valiauntly entered the breache. And the firste that entered (as diuerse did beholde) was these twoo freendes: whiche vpon their enterie, ranne to saincte Quintaines Churche, and gatte there sainct Quintaines hedde (a riche iewell) and were commyng awaie with this greate treasure, but the Almaines had entered at the other breache, and mette maister Malbie and Capitaine Vaughan, and beeyng a strong companie together, tooke awaie the gained bootie from them, and put thē in hazarde of their liues, so that thei were faine and glad to escape, and leaue sainct Quintaines hedde behinde them.

Vaughan was hurte in the face, and therefore desired to goe to the Campe to be cured. And at this assault there wer many made riche, though these twoo freendes had but euill Fortune, and founde enemies, where thei should haue had freendes. The toune was spoiled and ransackte, and the Admirall of Fraunce with many others were taken there, and so kyng Phillip fortified it againe, and lefte therein a greate Garrison, and retired towardes the Burgonion Paile, takyng [Page] certaine tounes and fortresses in his waie.

Not verie long after a peace was concluded, and the Englishe Armie beeyng well paied, and in Englande, maister Nicholas Malbie went to the Irishe warres, and kept capitaine Girtton companie not in paie, but vppon pleasure: The Erle of Sussex then Lorde Deputie, and Capitaine Girtton hauyng somewhat to take with the Lorde Deputie, desired maister Malbie, to see that his charge and countrey should be well gouerned, till his retourne: and gaue M. Malbie power, to doe what he pleased in that behalfe.

There was one in those partes named Mighell Patrick, that was a tickell Subiecte, and did many wronges to his neighbours, and namely to Capitaine Girttons menne, against whom maister Malbie went, and had diuerse tymes the vpper hand of hym, and put hym and his Kerne to flight.

In this season there was a Proclamation, made by the Lorde Deputie, that whosoeuer could take a Rimar (which were a kinde of Supersticious Prophesiers of Irelande) should spoile hym, and haue his gooddes, without daunger of Lawe.

Maister Malbie, maister Anthonie Poore, maister Robart Hartpole, maister Thomas Masterson beyng all at Kilkennie, heard of certaine blinde Prophesiers called Rimars, that had been abroad with gentlemen and others, and gotten their beste horses, Plate, and Iewelles, for tellyng them fables and lyes: whiche Iewelles and treasure, came to the value of twoo hundreth markes.

These Rimars goyng home, were followed by these gē tlemen, and brought backe to Kilkennie, and there spoiled and whipped, and banished the toune, which Rimars swore to Rime these gentlemen to death, but as yet God bee thanked, thei haue taken no hurte, for punishyng suche disordered people.

In a little while after, maister Malbie went to my lorde of Warwicke his maister, who was Lorde Lieutenaunt of [Page] Newe Hauen, where maister Malbie was not onely my Lordes Secretarie, but also was readie in all seruices, and had good and greate entertainement at my Lordes handes, and Ihon Malbie serued there at his owne charges on horse backe, and Capitaine Horssey can tell what good seruice he did at a skirmishe by Harfflue, master Thomas Horde is a good witnesse in like sorte of the same seruice. For Horde was striken through the hippes with a shotte, and laye on the grounde, at the mercie of the enemies sworde, whē Ihon Malbie flang in emong the thickest, and recouered his coū trie man, who yet is liuyng, and able to doe good seruice.

At this seruice maister Ihon Malbies horse receiued two shotte, and yet carried his maister to Newe Hauen after.

At Newe Hauen was diuerse times greate an noble seruices to be seen. The Ryngraue and all his regimente could well shewe you the same: For thei thought and founde, that our Soldiours were of greate vallue and worthinesse. For many of the Ryngraues bande, passed vnder the misericorde of our Englishe blacke Billes. And the Ryngraue (a moste worthie and noble warriour) confessed hym self, that Englishe soldiors ought to be honoured. But the Plague beyng so sore and so terrible in Newe Hauen, the value of our men could not be seen but a little season, and so the toune of necessitie was yelded, wherein was lefte Capitaine Randall, and Capitaine Malbie, to see the hurte menne conuayed awaie, and the greate ordinaunce carried into Englande, that was agreed vppon betweene the Frenche, and the Erle of Warwicke, by whiche meanes (and to see the condicions performed) Capitaine Randall, and Capitaine Malbie were the last of our Englishe nation, that came out of Newe Hauen.

These thynges brought to passe, and all thinges in quiet here at home. The twoo brethren heard of warres betweene kyng Phillippe, and the greate Turke: and tariyng a small tyme here, thei sailed vnto Spaine, and came to the Courte where by the meanes of the Count de Ferrey, the king gaue [Page] them a gracious welcome, and commended theim in his letters to Dom Ihon de Tholethoe, then Viceroye of Cisill, and Capitaine generall of his Armie againste the Turkes, and Admirall of the Leuaunt sea. The kyng also gaue them letters vnto the Viceroye of Kateloniea (who was Duke of Langgiuill) for their passyng into Cisill, whiche Duke vsed theim verie courteously, and appoincted theim a Frigette, whiche was rowed with fower and twentie Oers, and had appoincted for their safe conduite fiftie Soldiours with victualles, for all the whole companie.

Thei arriued in a Citie called Guarthelagare, and walkyng abroad vp and doune the streates, till their menne had prouided their supper. There came one vnto them, that was the Algusie Magore, and crossyng the streate before them, offered them his varge, as in a maner of, a reste, whiche thei yelded vnto, and with that he drewe out their Rapiers, to se if thei were accordyng to the sise of that Countrey, and findyng one of them about the breadth of a strawe, longer then his measure, he carried bothe the twoo brethren to prison, thei mistrustyng his dealyng, requested hym to bryng theim to the Corige doore. Who answered thei should goe to hym, but straight waies he clapped theim vp in a strong prison: where thei were faine to woorke for their libertie, and sendyng a greate iourney backe againe to the kyng of Spaine, that laye at Madriell, by meanes of maister Shelley, and the Count de Ferrye, thei receiued letters againe from the king that he whiche did them wrong, should bee put out of office, and should paie their charges (that was the Corigedoore) and the other that did areste them, first should haue his necke broken, and should be caste into a Well, except thei that had the wrong would pardon hym. Whiche thei did pardon, but he loste his office, and paied for their charges, whiche was thought a greate matter in a straunge Countrey, and taken to be a greate Iustice in a kyng.

So thei passed towardes Palarma through many daungers, [Page] and perillous passages, beeyng sonderie tymes in hazarde, to fall in the lappes of the Turkes Galleyes, and yet through good happe, and conducte of the Frigette, thei were in (whiche was well furnished) thei escaped all perilles, and came to Palarma.

From thence thei helde companie with the Galleyes of Cisill that went to Messiney, where beyng arriued, thei presented their letters to the Viceroye, who vsed theim courteouslie, and presented theim to diuerse noble men, and furnished them with all suche necessaries as thei needed.

There was a gentleman that came frō Sardinia (where the brethren had been) and brought letters of commendatiō (from kyng Phillip and Dom Ihon de Austria) in his behalfe: who the Viceroye examined gentely, and findyng hym not meete to take charge in suche a greate seruice, as was then intended, gaue hym good entertainment, and told hym that other auncient soldiours, muste bee firste preferred, because the greatest seruice of Christendome, was presently to be followed, with men of moste experience.

And so placyng this gentleman in a Capitaines wages, and at his owne table, he gaue the twoo brethren the charge of a Galley, whiche was vnder the leadyng of a gentleman, whose name was Giles Andratha, one of the order of the white Crosse. And within fiue daie, the whole power pasfed from Messina to Seragosa, where thei remained seuen daies, and from thence thei passed to Malta, euery man bearyng on his backe twoo and thirtie pound weight of bisket, whiche burthen bothe noble and simple, were willyng to carie, at the least fower Italian miles. For thei landed at S. Paules rode, and marched to the aunciente Citie named Ciuerauegia.

Sir Ihon Smithe that now is (a valliaunte graue gentleman) shewed hym self there so honourable, that he aduaunced the fame of his countrey, by the noblenesse of his minde.

The Turkes vppon the arriuall of the Christians, plucked [Page] backe their Batterie, and embarked their greate Ordinaunce, and retired their men of warre a Shipborde, but in their retire thei loste fifteene hundred Turkes, and those soldiours that were before penned vp issued out, and recouered twoo greate Cannons, Dom Garsia was gone backe again to Saragosa, for the residue of the Armie. And in the meane tyme the Turkes stoale awaie, and retired towardes Constantinople, when intelligence was sente vnto Dom Garsia (beeyng in Cicill) of the departure of the Turkes Armie, he made greate speede to come to Malta, leauyng the power he went for behinde hym: and beyng arriued, tooke order for the fortification of euery dismembred peece, that beyng doen he tooke certaine soldiours into the Galleyes, and sought to finde some of the skattered Turkes on the seas. So passyng from Malta Eastward, he came to an Ilande called Strumdario, Ihon Andredoria mette with an Argosie, and was so bolde as to borrowe suche victualles as the Argosie had, for the better releeuyng of his Galleyes. And after the Armie had refreshed them there▪ thei passed to an Ilande called Sireygo ▪ where the Armie of the Turkes were vpon the one side of the Ilande, so attendyng some good Fortune, thei taried there seuen daies, in whiche tyme freshe victualles waxed skante. Then were thei driuen to retire towardes Cisill, without dooyng any exploite, and hauyng greate wante of victualles, and sweete water, the Spaniardes died out of all order. And if God had not sent a shower of Raine, by meane of a Thonder, full many a stoute man had perished for want of freshe water, whiche releeued bothe the Soldiour, and the Galley slaue, the shower of Raine was so sweete, and comfortable.

In the meane tyme, a brute was blowen in Cisill (on the soddaine departyng of Dom Garsia from thence) that the Turkes had wonne Malta, by whiche reporte and ouerthrowe, a noble man of Cisill, thought to expulse the Spanyardes out of that coūtrey, and so slue as many as he might [Page] laye handes on, and whiles he was in his greatest glory, and practisyng a generall reuolte. The Galleyes arriued there that lacked victualles before, wherein was sixe thousande soldiours, and the Generall beyng at Messina, hauyng intelligence of all this businesse, caused the noble man to bee apprehended, and with hym sixe of his confederates, and settyng vp a Skaffolde, and a paire of Gallowes, caused the noble mannes hedde to bee smitten of, and his sixe fellowes to be hanged before his face. And after this execution, a new Custome was raised for their Silkes, in signe that this reuolte should neuer be forgotten.

The Armie dispersed, and euery manne gon to his countrey, a quarrell had like to haue growē, betwene the capitain of the Kynges Galleyes, and the Capitaine of the Galleyes of Naples, in the goyng out of Messina, for thei beganne to striue, whiche of them ought to beare the Flagge of the Admirall, Dom Garsia stated the matter, and made thē bothe frendes, and tooke a good order for that cause.

Then it was appoincted by Dom Garsia, that the twoo brothers should enbarke with the Capitaine of the Kynges Galleyes, but sir Edward Standley beyng at Messina, was occasion vpon his request, that the brothers might not keepe companie together for a space, but thei mette merrie after at Naples, where sir Ihon Smithe mette with them, who dealt as courteously with them there, as he did before in Cisill.

And thei remainyng in Naples fourteene daies, thei enbarked theim selues with Dom Alueray de Basane (for Spaine) who was the Capitaine of the kynges Galleyes, and passyng from thence all along the coaste of Italie, came to Gene and remained fourteene daies there. From Gene to Barsilonia, in whiche voiage befell a greate storme, but the daunger beyng passed thei landed, and were forced for want of horses, to trauaile through the kyngdome of Katellonia, & Aragon, and so into Castile. And then findyng the kyng at Madreell, thei made at their leisure their repaire to the [Page] Count de Ferrey, who presented them to the kyng: He beeyng in his priuie Chamber alone, with one of the Generals that was at Malta, whiche commended the seruice of the twoo brethren so muche, that the kyng made theim kisse his hande, and so thei departed towardes their lodgyng, where thei founde Secretarie Arras seruaunt, readie to presente them from kyng Phillippe, fiue hundred Dukettes. Dom Garsias letters were deliuered the kyng of their seruice, a little before, and so with the kynges fauoure, and bountifull reward, thei reposed them selues a season.

And mindyng but to take their leaue, thei came to the Courte againe, where the kyng gaue theim gracious speeches, and fiue hundred Duckettes more, a liberalitie meete for suche a Prince, and a rewarde that might haue pleased a right good subiecte, as in deede the twoo brethren stoode so well contented withall, that thei accounted all those Soldidiours happie, that might serue suche a kyng.

And there withall the kyng gaue theim fiftie Duckettes a peece, to bee paied euery Monethe, so long as thei listed to serue hym.

In Naples, the like entertainement the Emperour his father had giuen them before, but thei seyng the great bountie, and Princely dealyng of the kyng of Spaine, (and mindyng to haue more experience of the worlde) thei tooke their leaue of his Maiestie, and purposed to retourne towardes Englande. So passyng to Bilboe, thei found maister Man, who was come to be a leeger in Spain, and hauyng a barke to bryng them into Foye, (a hauen in Cornwaill) thei tooke shippyng and in fiue daies came into Englande.

Beeyng come to the Courte of Englande, the honourable sir Frances Knowlles was to passe into Irelande: then maistes Nicholas Malbie made sute to goe ouer, where he might be emploied. And his master the noble Erle of Warwicke prefarred hym, bothe by letter, and commendation of his seruice: So attended he on sir Frances Knowles, till he [Page] came to sir Henrie Sidney then Lorde Deputie, who vpon vewe of his letters, and the regarde of his knowledge, made hym Sargeant Maior, in whiche roume he serued well and worthelie, till vpon good consideration, the Lorde Deputie placed hym at Karikfargus, and gaue hym charge there of a hundred horsemen, in whiche charge he so behaued hym self, towardes the Prince and soldiours, that he spente fiue hundreth pounde, more then his entertainemente, to the honouryng of his Countrey, and enrichyng of his Soldiours.

Thus he did continue to his great charges a long while. And at length came doune to Karrikefargus, sir Willyam Fuwillyams as Lorde Iustice, who liyng long in Campe, with a nomber of Soldiours, for the reformyng of matters out of frame, he wanted victualles. So sente for Capitaine Malbie, and sought his aduise for the releeuyng of the whole power. And maister Malbies opinion was to preye vppon the enemie, and findyng thynges readie for that purpose. Prepared to sette vppon a Kreete as thei were feedyng, the enemies had intelligence thereof, and draue thei Kine into a Bawne (otherwise called a place of defence) Capitaine Malbie seeyng their crafte, shotte of the Hargabose emong the beastes, thei that were so hurte, ranne in a madnesse emong their fellowes, and so draue out fiue hundreth good Kine, in the daunger of the Soldiours, and so thei were driuen to the Campe, and the hongerie people thereby founde sustentation.

Sir Henrie Sidney came out of Englande anon after this, and landed at Karykefargus, where remainyng but a few daies, he marched towardes the Ban, for to parley with Torlo Lenno, who named hymself Oneall. The Deputie beyng there made Proclamation, for all suche as had any pledges for their behauiour, willyng them to come in accordingly, or els their pledges should suffer for their disobedience, that lefte theim in pledge. Emong all the residue Macke Ilaspete was one moste accounted of, but he nothyng respectyng [Page] his pledges, (or els nothyng doubtyng the daunger thei were in) staied and would not come vnto the Lorde Deputie, the Lorde Deputie beyng no dallier in causes of duetie, caused the pledges to be executed. That beeyng dooen, Macke Ilaspet sought to reuenge, and came with fiue hundreth Scottes into the Countrey, he was encountred with one Richard Hunt a Lieutenaunt of horsemen, a verie valliaunt soldiour, who vpon his first charge was slaine. Then Capitaine Cheston beyng in the feeld, marched toward the Scottes with a hundreth footemen, and beeyng nere the Scottes, there were certaine gentlemen (as it seemed by their apparell) that attempted the bande of foote menne, and charged them, but Cheston and his bande stoode verie faste, and determined to fight it out. In whiche stoute standyng to their businesse, thei slewe on the firste charge giuen vnto them fourtie gentlemen, whereof Macke Ilaspite was the beste, for he had the leadyng of the reste that tyme. Vppon whiche repulse the residue fell to flie: so that thei were murthered and slaine, like a sorte of Sheepe.

Now Bryan Mackefellyn standyng not farre of, seemed neuer to come in, till he sawe the ouerthrowe giuen, whiche happened otherwise (peraduenture) then he hoped for, but at the length he came faintly in, and yet would not followe the chace, beyng called a verie good subiect.

This broile enden, Capitaine Chestons menne tooke the spoile of suche as was slaine, and so retired.

It was not long after, but there came a newe supplie, to reuenge Macke Ilaspetts death, whiche beyng entered the Countrey, were encountered withall againe with Capitain Cheston, who shewed suche vallue, that in one skirmishe were slaine twoo hundred Scottes: and in the same skirmish that valliaunt Soldiour Cheston by name, was shot into the baule of the knee, of whiche hurte he died, whiche brought greate sorrowe to Karyckefargus.

Capitaine Nicholas Malbie beyng in the Englishe pale [Page] with his bande: There was a iourney appointed by the lorde Deputie, to be made vpon a certaine Rimer, that belonged to Oneall, at a place called the Kloher. This draught was drawen by one Thomas Flemmynges, a greate freende of capitaine Malbies. And there was cheef appoincted for that iourney the Barron of Deluin, maister Edward More, and Capitaine Collyar.

Some businesse was emong the soldiours, for the goyng of that iourney: and some drewe backe, and some misliked the long marche, whiche must bee dooen in shorte tyme. But the Barron of Deluyn and Capitain Malbie, did determine to trie Fortune, and appoincted the footemen a place of metyng, and to retire vnto theim, if occasion so serued: But the horsemen rode on the spurre, and entered the Countrey thei sought at a good hower, and slue there a nomber of rebelles, bringyng from thence a greate bootie, to the nomber of xij. thousande Kine and Mares, and draue their prey to the Cloher. Whiche was within twoo miles of Onealles house, and thether came the foote bandes, and so Camped all together that night.

Oneall whilest thei were there sente theim woorde, thei should bee foughten withall, ere thei went out of the Countrey, to whiche threates thei gaue small eare, and made lesse aunswere.

Shortely after Capitaine Malbie was to retourne to Karickefargus with his charge, where he remained a small season, there was an occasion giuen by the capitaine of Kyllowlto of his disorder, and hauyng a conuenient tyme for the correction of the same, and did it not. Wherefore Capitaine Malbie called his soldiours together, and entered Kyllowltoes Countrey, and tooke a parte of his prey, and marchyng through apace. There went by Capitaine Malbie a woodd Kerne talkyng with hym, the Kernes sworde drawen, and passyng vnder a bowe in a straite: the Kerne let driue at the Capitaine, and hit hym on the hose, whiche was so well stuffed [Page] with heare, that the hurt was nothyng greate, and so the Kerne sled into the woodde.

It was not three daies after, but Capitaine Malbie, and Capitaine Peers hauyng a Commission to sitte vpon, made Proclamation, that whatsoeuer he was of any degree and had made offence that would come in, and aunswere to that should bee laied to his charge, he should come saffe and goe saffe, without any harme or daunger.

On whiche Proclamation, the self same woodde Kerne came, and presented hym self before the Commissioners: whereat Capitaine Malbies harte sturred, and a soldiour of his that gaue hym warnyng of this Kerne, in the place saied openly, Capitaine this is the traitour, that stroke you stoupyng vnder a bowe. The Kerne aunswered, it was he in deede. Then was he demaunded, how durst he come thether that had dooen so traiterous an acte. The Kerne aunswered againe, because I heard that the Capitaine neuer brake his woorde: I ventered to trie his fidelitie, not caryng for myne owne life. With that he was had into a house, and made bothe drinke and eate, and so was sent awaie: whiche courtesie and trothe kepte in promesse, made this Kerne euer after a true follower of Capitaine Malbie.

Capitaine Peers vpon some conceite or cause, hated this Kerne, and afterwardes arrested hym diuerse tymes, which Kerne sent to maister Malbie to be his suretie, who became bounde for him, to paie fower and twentie Kine at a daie appoincted.

There was one made a complainte to the Lorde Deputie of Bryan Ballowe, who sent for Bryan to aunswere the wrong he had dooen. Well ꝙ Bryan I will goe keepe my promesse, for I hope Capitaine Malbie will not see me suffer death, whiche keeps my woorde: The onely credite of a mannes life.

With that his wife and freendes tooke holde of his mantell to staye hym, but he so struggled that he gatte from thē, [Page] and came starke naked before the Lorde Deputie, of whom Bryan Ballowe was cherished for his faithfulnesse.

In that tyme while Sir Harry Sidney was Deputie, there befell a greate broile aboute Kylkennie, to redresse the whiche businesse, was sent sir Peter Carowe, Capitaine Gilbart, Capitaine Malbie, and Capitaine Basnette, who beyng in Kylkennie heard saie that a thousande Gallowglasses were in a plaine, not farre from the toune: so these Capitaines issued out of the gates, (whiche were kept shut for great occasion) and came in the vewe of those Gallowglasses. There fell a greate shower of Rain the same season, and the Gallowglasses seyng the Englishemen but a fewe, and thei beeyng many, made a shewe of fight, and puttyng of their broeges, and shakyng their Axes, gaue a greate shoute and a crie, as their maner is when thei hope of victorie. But the Englishe Capitaines minded not to giue ouer the matter for a bragge. And determined couragiously to set vpon their enemies: whiche in deede thei did, and gaue so lustie a charge that thei ranne cleane through theim, and slue at the least fower hundred of them, puttyng the rest to flight, and followyng the chace, draue them into a woodd, whiche beyng nere saued many of their liues. Sir Peter Caroe saied, muche of this victorie rested in Capitaine Malbies manhoode and conducte.

The Lorde Deputie sente Sir Peter Caroe, for to take possession of a certaine Castell, in whiche Castell was a cō panie of stoute men: And to the seruice was Capitaine Collyer, Capitaine Furres, and others sent. Thei within shotte and slue our people, whiche encreased the hatred and malice: Muche businesse was aboute this Castell, and at length it came to a parley, and whiles the capitaines were at the parley, the soldiours wer made drinke, and a siluer boule sent thē to drinke in out of the Castell: But the parley could not take vp the matter, & so thei called for their siluer boule again, but a soldiour with one legge, whose name was haltyng Dick, [Page] hauyng the siluer boule in his hande, made aunswere, that he would keepe that till the reckenyng were made of the reste. And the parley beyng doen, thei put in the Conestable of the Castell at a grate, and sodainly withall thei thrust in a great peece of Timber, whiche kepte the grate open, wherein the Soldiours entered, and so wonne the Castell, where after was a pitifull murther, for man, woman, and child were put to the sworde. And the soldiours found therein greate riches, especially Tapestrie and Plate, and muche good housholde stuffe.

It was not long after, but the Lorde Deputie raised a greate power, to go to the West against the rebelles, whose leader was Iames Fitz Moris: whiche was reported to bee of greate force. And the Lorde deputie marchyng forwarde toward Clammell: the newes was brought, that Fitz Morris was so strong, that the Lorde Deputie was to weake to deale withall. So counsaill was giuē him to retire. The lord Deputie seeyng the cowardies of some (and hauyng good courage hym self) called Capitaine Malbie and asked his aduise, who aunswered, if good guides could bryng my lorde through the plaine Countrey, his fiue hundreth horse would marche in despite through all Irelande. The Lorde Deputie thereon saied, he neuer bare the George that daie, that he gaue place to any rebelles: and so the Deputie commaunded them to marche, and his power came that night, and lodged at a Castell of his enemies, as the reporte wente. There was a stoute Kerne seyng the Deputies campe commyng, ranne out of the Castell and sett many houses a fire, because the Lorde Deputies power should haue no succour thereof, and be in so [...] daunger by their approche. To whiche Kern Ihon Malbie galloped apace, and so dispatched hym, which was a good peece of seruice.

The nexte daie the Castell was yelded, so the lorde Deputie marched to the White Knightes Countrey, and besieged a strong Castell of his, and because thei did withstande [Page] the siege, thei were all put vnto the sworde.

From thence he marched towarde a Castell in the Desmondes Countrey, called Bally Marten, where thei withstode the siege, so it was battered. And there was one called the Seneshall, who founde meane in the night, to steale awaie with all his companie, and so thei tooke the bogge, and escaped to Iames Fitz Morrice, who made many wordes and threateninges, but he performed no peece of those promises. So after this, the Lorde Deputie came vnto Corke, and frō thence to Lymbrick, takyng all the Castelles in his waie that he founde, till he came to Gallawaye. And after he returned towardes Dublin, in whiche iourney his enemies did neuer shewe their faces.

Shortly after this, Capitaine Malbie tooke in farme the countrey of Lakaell, at the handes of the Erle of Kildare whiche Lakaell had lyen waiste three yeres before, and after that came sir Thomas Smithes base sonne with his horsemen and footmen, to a place called the Ardes, nere neighbor to Capitaine Malbie, who furnished maister Smithe with diuerse thynges, and did bestowe on hym and his soldiours, a good rounde sōme of money: but maister Smithes fortune was not good, and so at the length he was slaine, as after you shall heare.

Now the noble and moste bountifull gentleman of Englande, came ouer as Gouernour of Vlster, I meane the Erle of Essex, whose praises no manne in the worlde can ecclips. Whiche Erle was accompanied with a goodly bande of horsemen and footemen, he arriued at Karrickefargus: And there came with hym the Lorde Ritche, Maister Henrie Knowlles, and his fower brethren, maister Mighell Carie, and maister Ihon Carie, soonnes to the Lorde of Honsdon, and maister William Norrice, and maister Ihon Norrice, twoo of the eldest soonnes of the Lorde Norrice, whose courages and deedes, did shewe their noble race, as in deede the other gentlemen named before theim, by their [Page] owne actes aparte, did often tymes expresse their honourable birthe. There was likewise one maister Blunt a valliaunt gentleman, brother to the Lorde Mongie, and sonderie others, whose names I haue forgotten.

Within a prettie space after this noble Earles arriuall, sir Bryan Mackefellin (who was accounted then a rebell) did sue to come in. To whom the Earle gaue protection, and yeldyng hym self simplie, vnto the Queene, the Earle not onely graunted hym a pardon, but also gaue him greate giftes, and vsed hym so courteously, as he could not imagine how to be better entertained.

But Bryans follower beeyng wearie of well doyng (and peraduenture by Bryans consent) the soldiours horses could not bee in saffetie, and the followers of Bryan fell to open thefte, and priuie filchyng. The Earle willed Bryan to giue correction to the malefectours, who promised from tyme to tyme, but no redresse could be had.

The Earle lettyng those offences passe, and conceiued that he had not his people in suche obedience, as was reason, and so bore with little faultes, in hope amendemente would followe: but all this while the soldiours were robbed, and as the poore menne them selues were caught alone, thei were murthered. For whiche outrage the Erle shaped a reuenge, and so to crie quittaunce: but Bryan hearyng thereof, desired to come in, and make his aunswere, the Erle graunted that, and so sir Bryan came, and made his submission, declaryng he could not rule his naughtie people, and was sorie for their follies, and foule factes committed. So the Erle badde hym bryng them all into an Ilande called Mahair, and offered Bryans menne an aide, to bryng them that would refuse to come, promisyng thei should be all well vsed, and all former faultes shoud be forgotten.

Sir Bryan so departed, and in fine wrought cunnyngly to deceiue the Erle, and departe with all his Creett of Kye, (whiche amounted to twentie thousande) into the wooddes, [Page] or where he thought beste: but my Lorde of Essex had good espiall on Bryan, by meane of Capitaine Malbie, notwithstandyng, the sleightes of the enemies were so fine, that thei could not bee easely perceiued, nor preuented, because so many tales were brought, and so many flatters tooke sir Bryans parte. Yet alwaies the Erle did that, whiche he thought for the beste, and was lothe to seeke blood, but vpon a greate occasion, and yet in the ende true woorde was brought, that Mackefellyn was stollen awaie, by this meanes as I shall tell you, Capitaine Malbie and his brother hearyng of this dispute, and hauyng greate businesse to repaire vnto Lakaill tooke their iourney, and as thei were ridyng, thei espied a freende of theirs commyng galloppyng, whose name was Marke Hoult.

Who brought newes of Bryans goyng awaie, whiche messenger thei sent in all haste to the Erle: and thei appointed a place, where thei would meete the Earle. But in the meane while thei hasted to staie Bryan and thei might, or to holde hym plaie till the Earle came. But that was in vaine, for all the Creete had take a strength before the daie. Yet the Earle marched apace, and came within twoo miles of the enemie, where he mette Capitaine Malbie: but of necessitie the Earle retired to Carryckefargus, for this matter could not be recouered.

Yet in a fewe daies after, the Earle made a rode against Bryan, and by meane of a Spaniell in the companie, their entent was eskried, and wantyng Kerne to enter the wood the Earle retired homeward againe.

The Earle sent for the Barron of Dongarren, and maister Edwarde Moore, and one Thomas Flemmyng, but Bryan had gotten intelligence thereof, and laye in waite for to entrappe theim: The Barron came to Bellfaste and passed the Foorde, and sent to Hollyngburne Abbey for maister Moore, so passyng a softe pace towardes the Earle, Bryans horsemen brake, and so the Barron retired backe to the forde [Page] again, where by chaunce maister Malbie was, and gaue the Barron succours, and caused theim to passe ouer the Foord, for their better suertie.

But those horsemen that thei had sent for maister More, did light in the lappes of their enemies, in commyng backe againe: yet some of theim were well horssed, and so escaped to Hollyngburne Abbay, and those that were nerest mischeef were slaine.

This hazarde beeyng paste, Capitaine Malbie sente in poste to the Earle, to come closely with as many horsemen, and footemen as he might make, and to come in the night followyng: the Earle made speede, and came as secretly as he might, three howers before daie, to the place appoincted: where he laye in couerte, till it was tyme to passe ouer the Foorde.

Now the Barron with maister Moore and their companie passed ouer, and had not gone but a little ground, but thei were sharpely set vpon, and sent backe againe, Bryans foote men were so nere them: with that Capitain Malbie and his brother hastened to the skirmishe (whiche grewe very hott) and as thei were almoste ouer the water, maister Richard Blunt commyng with them, cried, a charge, a charge, and so settyng his staffe againste his thigh, he ranne emong the [...]m whiche were footemen, whiche had quickely killed his horse, and had hym doune, laiyng loade vppon hym (whiche was a wonder of the worlde he had not been slaine) capitain Malbie and his brother with fiue or sixe more, gaue a charge to rescue him, and so put his enemies backe, where at a man of the Barrons, and an other called Thomas Flemmyng, tooke hym vp, and haled hym awaie. At this skirmishe many of Bryans men were slaine: and the Englishemen did retire ouer the water in tyme, for the tide was commyng.

And the very same night, the enemies came ouer the water, and encamped them selues by the Englishe power. And in the mornyng betymes thei prouoked the skirmishe, bothe [Page] cunnyngly and manfully. For at the firste beginnyng, thei killed maister Willyam Norrises horse vnder hym (who valliauntly behaued hymself) and in lesse then an hower, capitaine Malbies horse was striken doune: and if Sir Willyam Morgan with greate courage, and one maister Egerton had not dooen verie well, Capitaine Malbie had been slaine, for his horse laye vppon hym. The noble Earle beholding this broile, with his footemen came fliyng in, and gaue a charge on the rebelles, and put them to flight, and did it in suche order, that many of the enemies loste their liues thereby: And after that charge, thei retired into the wooddes, where sondrie of them were ouerthrowne, and those that escaped went to their Creete.

As tyme did passe, and the Erle laie at Karrickefargus, newes was brought that one Noall Macke Bryan Artho, had deuised a draught, for the killyng of Maister Thomas Smithe, who was slaine by that deuise: My Lorde of Essex was muche moued at that deede, and Capitaine Malbie and his brother were marueilous sorie, for the losse of suche a neighbour, and good companion. And swore to reuenge his death, ere it should be long, as thei did when occasion serued therefore. In processe of tyme the twoo brethren desired leaue, to repaire into Lakaell (meanyng to practise a reuēge for maister Smithes death) the Earle not knowyng their myndes, gaue Ihon Malbie leaue to goe, but kept the other Capitaine about his owne persone. Maister Ihon Malbie commyng into Lakaell, mustered all the menne he might make, and hauyng a good power, sufficiente as neede required, practised with one called Donny Sallowe, for the catcheyng of Neall Bryan Artho at some aduantage, and promised at the least an hundred pounds for his labour, that should drawe suche a drifte. This Donny Sallowe as muche for the money, as glad to please his freende, went closely about this matter, and brought suche certaine newes, of Neall Bryan Arttoes haunt and order of life, that it was an easie thyng, [Page] either to compasse hym in some daunger, or laye handes vppon his followers.

And by a good occasion maister Ihon Malbie, with three score and fower horsemen, and a fewe footemen, he made suche a slaughter, that fiue and thirtie of his beste men, that followed Neall Bryan Artto were licked vp and slaine, and a greate preye and bootie taken from hym, and brought awaie, he beeyng twoo hundreth footemen, and fourtie horsemen in the feelde. Emong those menne that was slaine, was one Con Mackmeloeg, who before caused maister Smithe to be eaten vp with Dogges, after he had been boiled, and this same Con Mackmeloeg beyng slaine, was lefte emong wolues v. daies, and was had into a house, where his freendes howled, and cried ouer his dedde bodie so long, that by mischaunce a greate deale of pouder caught fire, and sett the house in a flame: the Dogges in the toune smellyng this ded bodie ranne in, and tooke it out of the house, and so tore it in peeces, and fedde vppon his carraine fleshe openly. Whiche was a thyng to bee muche marueiled at, and thought to bee sent from God, for a terrour to all tyrauntes hereafter.

Now here is to be noted, that the Erle so long as he had power, left no occasion to trouble Bryan Mackefellyn, and to make hym knowe he had offended the Queenes highnesse, and for that cause the Earle made diuerse iourneis vppon hym. As a iourney where a preye was to be wonne, where maister Maunsfeelde, a proper man was slaine at, and maister Harry Knowles was fore hurte in, who serued noblie that daie. And a iourneye made to the Glyns, to Freers Toune, and to many other places emong the enemies, but with this seruice and diligence, the Englishe glentlemen were so weried, that sondrie sought meanes to departe into Englande, and so the Earle remained with the lesse force, and could not put further the mater in practise, then his power and Fortune would suffer and procure, notwithstandyng he founde meanes to entrappe, and take sir Bryan [Page]Mackefellyn, whiche he sent to Deuelyn, and caused to bee retourned againe. At whose retourne to auoide further trouble sir Bryan was put to death, on whiche execution runneth diuerse reportes, the maner whereof I leaue to the worlde. For my intente is but to shewe breefly, how thynges were begonne and ended, at that present tyme of seruice.

All this season remained with the Earle, sir Nicholas Malbie and his brother, Capitaine Barkley, Capitaine Selbie, Capitaine Bousar, Capitaine Deeryng, sir Peter Carewe, sir Willyam Morgan, and twoo of my Lorde of Hunsdons soonnes, maister Harry Bronkar, and others of good callyng, courage, and credite.

Sir Willyam Fuwillyams was Lorde Deputie then, who tooke greate paines, to reforme the badde disposition of disobediente people, and often tymes was in Campe hym self to vse the sworde, and minister Iustice. And at his goyng awaie, came the honorable sir Harry Sidney, in whose tyme was muche to be doen, but especially against one Sarlaboyes a Skotte, that kepte aboute the Ban, and had ouerthrowne a nomber of talle soldiours, saruyng at Karryckefargus, emong the whiche companie was Capitaine Baker slaine. So for the reuenge and redresse of these and suche like causes, the Lorde Deputie made a power, and marched frō Dradaffe to Dondalke, and so to the Newewrie, and from thence to Lakaell, and so toward Bellfaste, where in a woode a greate nomber of wilde Kerne (vnder the leadyng of Brian Macke Farttie) did attende vs, and staied vs from takyng the aduauntage of the tide, thei plied vs with suche shot and other their leaude demeanour. But we charged on them, and so draue them into their fastnesse: Capitain Harryngton and his bande serued well that season, I behelde the same, and with small difficultie we put the enemies backe, and passed the Riuer with some hazard, for the floud was come in, and we were faine to carrie our footemen behind vs a horseback, and some we ledde by the handes, whiche moyled and wette [Page] the poore soldiours extremely, but the marche that wee had after to Karryckefargus, brought the poore menne in good harte againe: but their victualles waxed scante, and we carried a longer season then was looked for, by meane of the hollowe and false dealyng of the wilde Scottes, of whom Sarlaboyes was Capitaine.

This Serlaboyes had in his Creete (as thei call it) thirtie thousande Kye, and yet wee wanted bothe Beefe and Biskette: The reason was, the winde serued not to conueigh vs victualles from Strangfforde, and other places appoincted to victuall the Campe.

At the length Serlaboyes was faine, and glad to sende vs some Kye, and so we marched awaie: but the seconde daie after, the woodde Kernes spied their tyme, and set vpon some of our carriages, and tooke with theim bothe tronkes full of apparell, and some plate, but thei could not dooe to our power any hurte at all, saue to a fewe that went without order, and felte some scourge for their follie.

After this the Lorde Deputie roade to a place called Blackwater, to whom came the Oneall, and made his humble submission: and so we helde on in iourneyng, and marche still towardes the Weste, and came firste to the Forttes in Affayleye, where some offendours were hanged, and then to Kylkennie the Lorde Deputie passed, but before he came nere the Toune, the noble Earle of Ormonde with a braue traine mette the Lorde Deputie, and afterwardes feasted hym moste sumptuously: and now to speake of this valliant Earle, it shall beautifie my matter. For his seruice, charges and trauaill hath been suche, that it deserueth memoriall for euer: For alwaies and at all seasons, he hath on his owne proper coste and charge been as readie, and as forwarde to serue the Prince, as any man that euer I haue heard spoken of, noble or otherwise: and this is moste to be commended in that noble Earle, he neuer brake faithe in his daies, but had suche regard to his honour, that he would keepe touche with [Page] his mortall enemies, and muche more with his freendes, and where due obedience doeth leade hym. I lacke but laisure to praise that noble man a right, and so for this tyme I goe no further, in his honourable commendations.

Now from Kylkennie the lorde Deputie went to Korke, and so to Lymbricke, where I sawe the Earle of Desmonde come in with greate humilitie and reuerence: and many others of the Nobilitie of Irelande, duetifully behaued them selues there. So from that place the Lorde Deputie went to Gallawaie, and retourned home through Connaught (where now Sir Nicholas Malbie remaines as gouernor.

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FOr that it shall not seeme in any sorte, that either affection or report, should lead my penne to the praise of one, and leauing out the laude of an other (which is a kind of curryng fauour with menne, and a fauourer of good fortune) I haue drawne and sett doune in good order, the valliant seruices of diuerse capitaines that were at Newe Hauen, who ought not to bee forgotten, if I write not parshallie, and voide of consideration. Emong the whiche Capitaines I finde Capitaine Reade (now in the Garrison of Barwicke) a manne so worthie of memorie, and garnished with knowledge and courage, that he not onely merites to bee spoken of, but likewise deserueth to be honoured in Marshall causes, and exercises of warre.

And because sonderie reportes hath been bruted (and blowen abroad, otherwise then reason requireth) of the kepyng and yeeldyng of Newe Hauen: I mynde in breef and shorte maner, to make a whole and sounde discription of the seruices there. Whiche in myne opinion were bothe daungerous and manly, and maie be called a noble exploite: till Goddes visitation by terrible Plague and diseases, had infected the toune, and disouraged stoute soldiours.

For in callyng to mynde the sondrie hazardes, and extremities thei were in, (consideryng a fewe in comparison in a straunge Countrey, withstoode a greate nation and multitude of men well experimented. I am moued to touche a little their vallue, and to shutte in silence by this my true rehersall, the bablyng speeches of those that haue barked, or snarred [Page] at the well dooyng of their Countrey men. Whose fame and laudation in our Forefathers daies hath ouermatched, and farre surpassed the glorie of any our neighbors, examine but their deedes and conquestes, and you shall neede no further triall of the matter.

Now to make good myndes of vpright meanyng conceiue the trothe, and in a maner marueile at the happe, and manlinesse of our people: I will firste and formoste declare vnto you, a victorie gotten against the Count de Ringraue (albeit it falles not in order of the whole discourse) a man of greate honour, and no little courage and conducte. Who gouerned his Campe and regiment, with as good pollicie and knowledge, as any manne liuyng in his daies, and place of seruice.

It fell out after the Frenche were knit in vnion, and that bothe the Religions were bente against vs (as in causes of dominion is alwaies to be looked for) and so determinyng to laye siege to Newe Hauen, with all the power thei could make. Thei sent this noble Count Ryngraue, to take a certaine village not farre from the Forte: in whiche village did encampe the whole regiment of the Ryngraue, when he had with some difficultie possessed it. The Earle of Warwicke Lorde Lieutenaunt for the Queenes Maiestie, beyng carefull of his charge, and watchfull to preuente mischeef: Sent out at Midnight Capitaine Reade and some other bandes, to holde the enemie some plaie, and bidde them the basse, and so in skirmishe as the season and occasion would serue, thei droue out a peece of the night, receiuyng little harme, and doyng all the hurte thei could deuise.

But my Lorde Lieutenaunt beholdyng the boldnesse of the Ryngraue, and seyng how nere he sought to nestell hym self to Newe Hauen, with suche a power as peraduenture, might haue troubled the whole toune. My Lorde issued and went to the Forte, whiche stoode a good distaunce from the Hauen.

[Page]And after my Lorde had a while digested this businesse, and had well foreseen what might followe, if the enemie wer suffered like a strong hedded horse, to take the bridell in his teeth: my Lorde called Capitaine Reade before hym, and tolde hym that the enemie must bee remoued. For by Gods will ꝙ he (as it is my Lordes earnest woorde) if the Ryngraue lodge so nere my charge, the one of vs bothe shall take little reste, and so my Lorde concluded, and fully determined that Capitaine Read should haue the leadyng of a thousande men, and goe giue a charge on the enemie. To whiche commaundement Capitaine Read willyngly obeyed, wherevppon Capitaine Souche, Capitaine Ward, Capitaine Gam Capitaine Somersettes Lieutenaunte, Capitaine Apleyarde, Capitaine Parkinson, Capitaine Anttwesill, Capitaine Wilfforde, and all their bandes, were appoincted to followe Capitaine Reades order and direction, in as duetifull maner, as my Lorde hym self had had the leadyng of these bandes and officers.

Now it behoued Capitaine Reade to looke well aboute hym, and to sette doune a course and order to keepe, firmelie and aduisedlie, because he had not to deale with men of small value, nor people that before tyme had been ignoraunte, of the seruice in the feelde. Wherefore he sorted his soldiours, and placed them in the moste assured and aptest maner, for the accomplishyng of suche an enterprise: deuided theim into that order, that one might aunswere an other, and the maine battaill should giue releef to the whole companie.

But here is to bee noted, that the enemies were thought verie strong, and to the nomber of fiue or sixe thousande soldiours, Frenche and Almaines, who looked for some encoū ter, and were in battaill closely sette and knitte together, at the entrie of the village: hauyng certaine louse shott without the toune, and some horsemen withall, redy to giue a charge and take what aduauntage might be gotten.

Fearyng little, that our people would haue ventered on [Page] their battaill, and doubtyng nothyng the victorie, if so small a power as ours, durst putte in hazarde the fight, or offer to giue the repulse.

Well, in this daungerous and doubtfull peece of seruice, Capitaine Reade beeyng resolued, to trie the vttermoste of Fortune, and followe my Lordes will and pleasure, who behelde all the exploite: With as greate expedition as could be deuised, he sette Capitaine Souche, Capitaine Gam, Capitaine Parkinson, and Capitaine Warde (menne of good seruice, and readie to aduenture for renowme) as a wyng on the lefte hande of his battaill, to plie the enemie with shotte, and in the battaill and as occasion required, he placed Capitaine Apleyard, Capitaine Anttwesill, and Capitaine Wilford. For to aunswere his hope with their manhood and diligence: and doe that was conuenient, in suche a hotte and couragious encounter.

Now Capitaine Souche and his companie, made suche haste to the seruice (this beeyng at sixe a clocke in the Mornyng) and had trotted so faste towardes the enemies, that thei were likelie to haue been out of breathe, and in greate perill: had thei not been succoured with the foresight, and dexteritie of Capitaine Read. For he beholdyng the swiftenesse of the wing, and the necessitie of the cause, beganne sodainly to mende his wonted marche, and helde a good pace and trotte towardes the village, hauyng euer an eye and regarde to bryng on his people (whiche was the battaill) alwaies in good order and breath.

But this haste and bolde attempte was no soner offered, but the enemie thought to preuent it, and so with suche horsmenne as thei had at hande, thei charged our footemen, who were so strongly garded with Pikes, that the horsemennes labour was loste, and some of them slaine emong the Pikes, thei were so well ioyned, and clasped together.

By this tyme went of all the small shotte of the enemies battaill, and as God would (our menne were come so nere, [Page] that thei were crept vnder the daunger of the hargaboze, by meane of a smother and smoke, that a greate while before, the enemies shot and ours had made. For Capitaine Read espiyng that aduauntage badd marche apace, to come to the ioynyng: so that through this occasion the enemies shott did little, or no hurte at all.

At this instaunt were our people euen at the verie entrie of the village, and a Frenche gentleman as seemed, beholdyng Capitaine Read (the cheef leader of our battaill, marchyng before the reste) leuied his peece at hym, myndyng to haue shotte, but by trauesyng of grounde, Capitaine Reade staied the Frenche mannes hande, who stepte straight waie behinde a little waule (and at the enteryng into the Toune) discharged his peecefull at the breast of Capitaine Reade, the peece beeyng charged with twoo bullettes, but albeeit it was so nere, that the fire flewe in his face, yet he was so well armed, that the shotte but rente and broke his Armour, and did hym no further hurte. Wherevppon Capitaine Reade steppes to the Frencheman, and so thrust hym through with a Halbert: an other gentleman standyng nere this, offered to bee taken prisoner: but Capitaine Read myndyng to doe that he came for, followed his enterprise, and charged on the battaill of the enemie, that stoode as stiffe as a waule, till our men laied their Pikes lustely vppon theim, and by verie fine force and pushe of the Picke, put them backe, and caused thē to wheele aboute. In whiche conflicte sixe hundreth were slaine, and nine score and three persones were taken, and brought awaie. The victorie was followed a small season, with as muche manhode as could be shewed, and the enemie driuen out of the village: But for the auoydyng of suche daū ger, as ouer farre marchyng into a straunge Countrey, as might haue brought our menne vnto: Capitaine Read with fame and victorie, retired in verie good order, and maner of the feelde.

Now I praie you, was not this a peece of seruice, worthy [Page] the honoring, and because many at home, that neuer saw seruice abrode, sittyng on soft cushons (and feles no hard fortune) doeth descāt of euery mans doyng: yet neither knowes plainsong, nor vnderstandeth measure. I haue thought good to sette out plainly sutche a peece of seruice (put in proofe at newe Hauen) emong the reste of seruices, as the ignoraunte babler shalbe a shamed to speake againste, and the manne of knowledge shall honour, and hold in reputation, whē he shall heare what trothe hath reported. After Capitaine Rede and his valliant companions (capitains and soldiours) had giuē the Ringraues companie an ouerthrowe, there befell a seconde and a third daies seruice: sutche and so noblie maintained and followed, as seldome hath been seen in any place of the worlde. And for the better vnderstandyng of the same, (and in praise of our Englishe nation) I will rehearse it vnto you orderly as it was, or at the least wise as well as I cā. The Frenche stomackyng the ouerthrowe lately spoken of, (and the Ringraue seekyng a reuenge) drewe a draught to traine our men out of the toune, whiche were readie enough either for skimishe, or any other maner of enterprise: and to this seruice on the sodaine, wente out one maister Charles Leighton, as leader of all our shot in the feeld, that daie: this Charles was Sir Thomas Leightons brother then there, and now gouernour of Garnesey, on whose good seruice I could speake in like maner. But now to my former matter.

The Frenche side with as greate a brauerie, and order of warre as might be, came lustellie to prouoke the skirmishe, hauyng certaine bandes of horse menne for their garde, and greate aduauntage: And our Englishe Soldiours desirous to encounter, ranne in vpon their enemies so feercely, and with suche a couragious charge, that nothyng but smoke of shotte, and flamyng fire was seen betweene the twoo powers. And alwaies maister Charles Leighton (who was a moste notable Soldiour) kepte his companie in so warlike an order, that the horse men durst not charge them, albeeit [Page] thei made many an offer, and ranne in vpon our men sondorie tymes, but thei came so sparkled abroade, and so daungerously (without fastnesse of troupe, and suretie of force) that our armed Pikes had many of them at their pleasure: And our shotte made greate hauocke emong their cheefest Soldiours. But the maner of this fight was so Soldiourly handeled, that those of the Frenche side (beyng maisters of that arte) were learned a Schoole poinct of skill, and tooke out a lesson worthie the notyng. For those whiche thei tooke for ignorant schollars, taught a newe kinde of conuyng, and shewed an Artificiall poincte of pollecie, and practice of warre. Whiche was sometymes to retire vpon fight, to drawe the Frenche forwarde, and there on to charge with the Pike in bothe the handes, enterlarded with shotte, sworde, and Targette, and came so gallauntly to the pushe of the Pike, and blowe of the sworde (a volley of Hargaboze shotte of before) that the Frenche and Almains thought, that our meinie had been rather dauncyng the Almaine Haye, then trauessyng the grounde to forsake the feelde, and retire into the Toune, and albeeit, it was in earnest for life and honour our Soldiours did striue, yet thei made it but a sporte, it was so lustely maintained, and so noblie handeled. In the beginnyng of this skirmiche, and when the seruice grewe somwhat hotte and furious (at whiche tyme diuers stoute gentlemen were come to the feelde) sir Humfrey Gilbart was hurte with the shotte of a Hargaboze. There were at this seruice sondrie of our gentlemen, as maister Thomas Gorge (now of the priuie Chamber) maister Ihon Horssey, maister Ihon Souch and to bee shorte, diuers of good callyng and reputation, whiche I must omitte, for that an other daies▪ seruice muste be remembred, whche was vpon a Saterdaie, not long after this. Yea sutche a daies seruice it was, as who so euer notes it well, shall finde matter enough to talke, or write of a long season: the maner whereof a litle shall bee touched, because suche valliauncie shall remaine as a spectacle to looke into, [Page] while the siege of newe Hauen can be remembred.

Now as you haue vnderstoode, the Frenche and Almaines desirous of honour, and to bryng to passe that thei came for, laied an ambushe of horsemen and footemen priuily for their purpose. And so a fewe of theim aboute Dinner tyme, approched a trenche that was fortified with barrelles, (because the grounde serued for no other fortification) on the Peeble, and there our menne withstoode theim to the vttermoste: and issued out of the same trenche diuers tymes, with the force thei had whiche was but small. The enemie seeyng the Trenche not sufficiently manned, waxed more bolder then thei were wont, and so meant to driue our small power into the toune: whiche was from the newe deuised Trenche a good distaunce, and so determinyng and disbandyng certaine shotte, and other apt Soldiours for sutche an exploite, thei gallauntly came forwardes, and in a little season (yet with somwhat adoe) thei enioyed the Trenche, forcyng our men to retire to their better aduanntage and more suretie. My Lorde of Warwicke beholdyng this broile, and bold attempte (not meanyng that our menne should either lose honour or grounde) beganne to bee somewhat moued in minde and for that he would beard the enemie, and knowe what his freendes, and those good Soldiours vnder his charge would doe. He called Capitaine Horssey, now sir Edward Horssey Knight (and Capitaine of the Ile of Wight) and asked his aduice in this matter: who aunswered my Lorde, that he and his power, with the helpe and aide of maister Francis Somersettes bande, would driue the Frenche out of the Trenches, and that right soone, if thei that issued out of the toune, followed good direction and order. My Lorde Lieutenant agréed to this deuice: And so capitaine Horssey had the whole charge of this seruice, who marched towardes the trenches, with great courage, and hope of victorie. The enemie bothe at hande and farre of, in the vewe of this attempte, framed themselues to defende and resiste, that came to defeite them: [Page] and so on bothe the sides, a hotte peece of seruice was put in proofe, and no partie was well, that might any waie occupie weapon in that present action. But alwaie the Frenche side with their forces (whiche were double, or treble our nomber) sought aduauntage, how to giue a charge on our menne with little losse: whiche Capitaine Horssey had a good eye vnto, and sought to preuente. For euen as the enemie came lustely on to doe mischeef by horsemen, so our menne mette them a foote as stoutly, and seemed by runnyng vppon the Frenche, rather to giue an onsette, then receiue a charge, by whiche pollecie and manhood, the enemie was mutche amased, and suffered some losse of horses, whiche could not bee auoided, the pusshe of the Pike was so well offered, and the feight so couragiously maintained. Yet the Frenche foote menne so applied the seruice with shotte, that our people neded more handes and helpe in the feelde: To the whiche aide my Lorde sent sondrie stoute gentlemen, who did verie valliantly, and continued the skirmiche a long season, wherein one maister Chidley, and some other of our side were slaine.

And the enemie seeyng some aduauntage sente diuerse horse menne, to cutte of our menne from the Toune, and were likely to haue dooen greate hurte, by meane that many of our Pikes were broken, and but a verie fewe lefte whole to defende our Shotte, and withstandyng a charge. Maister Thomas Gorge, with a small companie of gentle menne on horsebacke, beholdyng these thynges, came gallopyng into the feelde, and without any delaiyng of the matter, gaue a charge on the enemie, and runnyng in emong the thickest of them, passed and persed the whole troupe, and returned backe againe in feight through the same power, with no little hazarde nor honoure. Yet in the necke of this, the Frenche charged our Pikes a freashe, who mette theim in the faces, and made them retire: albeeit the furie of the skirmiche continued, and the enemies all this while gaue not ouer the feelde (though thei had loste the Trenche thei had [Page] possessed) nor shewed no signe that thei were wearie, and would marche awaie. Thus with muche a dooe, and with greate exercise of Armes and Marciall attemptes, a greate parte of the after noone was consumed: our menne alwaies keepyng the feelde, till at length when our companies were come together, and were out of the daunger of the greate Shotte, (whiche before could not bee shotte of, because our menne were pelle melle) the Ordinaunce of the Toune beganne to thonder and rattell in the ayre, and the Armed men of the enemies, either on horsebacke or a foote, beganne to shrinke, and drawe from the daunger: notwithstandyng many of them were slaine at that season. And wee had loste in the fight some gentlemen and good Soldiours, emong the whiche was one maister Treimain, who at many seruices was verie forward before this tyme, and now with his forewardnesse and misfortune loste his life.

So this seruice brought on by the Ryngraue, maintained by the Frenche, and performed by the Englishe, was then to bee taken vp, for want of better tyme to execute the thynges that all these nations exspected.

And here is to bee noted, that the Ryngraue did what he could, the Frenche did attēpt that thei might, & the English left no one thyng vndoen, that was answerable to the tyme.

For from the beginnyng that newe Hauen was possessed, to the verie laste daie it was giuen vp, our Soldiours neuer laye idell: but did alwaies what became men of warre with as greate manhood, forecaste, iudgement, pollecie, and honour to Englande as could be deuised. Neuer out of feare suspition, hazarde, and doubt to bee betraied: for the whiche occasion (and to bee in some certaintie) thei were faine to remoue the inhabitauntes out of the Toune, whiche albeeit it seemed a kinde of hard dealyng, & straite order, in good faith it could not bee auoided, except our Nation should haue put their neckes into the yoke, and haue been taught to drawe (contrarie to their mindes) in a seruile bande of bondage.

And this is to bee spoken of, and mutche to the commendation [Page] of men that loue their owne countrey: that so sone as thei sawe and found, we went about to enioye their Toune, their Shippes, their Landes, and suche like thynges as thei had before in their owne possession. Thei forgatte all kynde of amitie, freendshipp, fauoure, promes, and obedience vnto vs, and stucke so faste together, in one league of loue emong them selues, that the Papist and the Protestant, were bothe become our enemies, and although in Religion thei differed farre, and had committed many offences one againste an other, in Toune, in Churche, and open feelde. Yet to driue vs out of their kyngdome, thei were knitt in one vnion. And albeeit that the remembraunce of old quarrells, might breede some harte burne, and be an occasion that thei should not cō tinue in freendshippe and fidelitie, yet the hatered that thei bore vnto straungers (that thei sawe were maisters of their goodes) made them forgette any former iniurie, and wronges emong them selues, and fall into one opinion, for the remediyng of their presente mischeefe. Whiche agremente of theirs, and neighbourly loue in that necessitie: maie bee lefte for an euerlastyng example to all posteritie and ages, to procure euery Nation to haue in admiration and reuerence, the liberties and honour of the soile thei are borne in.

Now as I haue shewed the ouerthrowe, that Capitaine Read and his company gaue: the seruice that maister Charles Leighton was the leader of: and the victorie that sir Edward Horssey was at. So I must report and make mention of the good speeches that the Frenche them selues let fall openly, in the commendation of our Englishe Soldiours: by which good wordes it appereth, that suche as thinke not the beste of the seruice at newe Hauen, doe their Countrey men wrong. For as I haue written a little, somewhat in their praise, so could I rehearse mutche more to their commendation. But I must make excuse presently, of a fault that folowes ten lines after, whiche the printer should haue placed at the ouerthrowe the Ryngraue had. And yet I retourne to my matter, and saie, that newe Hauen menne were worthie [Page] to be spoken of: and should suche Capitaines and Soldiors, escape the praise of the world, and the recitall of my pen, no sure in verie deede, and for that I haue gone so farre in their behalfe, in this poinct of well doyng, I meane as commes to my memorie, to shewe sonderie of their other seruices, and feattes of warre. Not onely because euery manne ought to reape their due renowne, for the painfull labours thei haue takē: but also to animate and encourage others, to seeke by dewe desarte, the like good meane and noble commendation, a thyng more precious emong menne of warre, then any other riches, or worldly pleasure.

The Count de Ryngraue standyng emong a great troup of horsemen, a good waie of, beholdyng this ouerthrowe beganne to muse at the matter: and albeit he had loste many of his men (and his expectation beyng frustrate) he gaue great commendation to the Englishe Soldiours, and tolde the Frenche, that thei should them selues attempt the nexte approche. For he helde the Englishe nation other maner of men, then thei were accounted, and saied withall, he thought but to haue dealt against Soldiours, but he had to doe with the Furies of helle, or Spirites of the ayre. Suche was the noblenesse and good disposition of the Ryngraue, that he would giue his enemies fame, and ecclipps no iotte of honor from them, that well had deserued.

Yea, this Ryngraue was suche a noble warriour, that after the battaill or skirmishe was ended, or any peece of seruice was doen, he would sende flaggons of wine to his enemies, and in tyme of truce, or breache of warre (whiche he vsed often for honours sake) he would make bankettes, giue giftes, shewe liberalitie, and bee as courteous as a little child: And in the feelde a verie Lion more like then a manne, and yet a man of moste sober iudgement and knowledge.

The whole Campe of the Frenchemen came to a greate hille, after the ouerthrowe that the Ryngraue had, and fullie bent to besiege Newe Hauen: thei made euery daie a newe [Page] approche to the toune, in moste soldiourlike sorte and order, and to holde them in some awe, as our power might, many skirmishes were made, and good pollicie and courage was put in excersice, and nothyng lefte vndoen, that either tyme or place would permit. But what should I further delate, of thinges paste mannes helpe and pollice: when Gods wrathe and visitation dooeth cutte of all argumentes, and makes a quicke dispatche of the matter. For the Plague was so sore in the Toune, that many men in a rage did leape out of the windowes, into the streate: and suche a generall disease and dispairing sicknesse, was spread throughout the whole companie of soldiours, that no one stoode in certaintie of his own state or life. Suche was the heate and furie of the fearefull Pestilence, and greeuous botche, a dauntyng malladie, that takes awaie the vse of witte, and courage of man.

Well, albeeit that this greate mortalitie, and miserable state of life, might haue vtterly ouerthrowen, the valliaunte myndes of many good men: yet our people stoode so stoutely to their defence, that many exploites were taken in hande, and thei forced the enemie to make an offer vnto theim, of a noble composition, whiche of necessitie muste bee taken (all thynges considered) for there was no succour to bee hoped, for to come out of Englande. And some that were sent thether, as sir Thomas Finche, and diuerse other gentlemen, were caste awaie by the sea, and presently drouned.

Then noble Capitaine Randall (who can not haue to muche fame) who after was slaine in Irelande, was appoincted by the Lorde Lieutenaunt, to tarrie behynde when the Toune was yeelded vp: to see all conditions and capitulations performed, whiche were but slackly handeled, and looked vnto by the Frenche, and yet in effecte our soldiours (with as muche honour as men in their plight could haue) came home, and brought muche ordinaunce and goods with them. But thei had so greate a plague still emong them, that many here at their arriuall, departed this worlde.

[Page]This was but a peece of the seruice, that capitaine Read was at in his daies: for his moste paines hath been taken aboute the warres of Scotlande, and roades made into that Countrey: where he hath borne hym self so well, and that a long season, that all those who knowes the same (or can call the seruice to memorie) giueth good reporte thereof, and speaketh muche to the ad [...]ncement of his good name.

And seeyng that in [...] praise and others, my penne hath gone so farre, I wil [...] touche the seruices of sir Willyā Winter, who bothe by lande and Sea, hath often been emploied. And in the rehearsall of some parte of his doynges, I will as I maie make mention of sir Willyam Drewrie, sir Humfrey Gilbart, sir Willyam Morgane, Capitain Barkley, Capitaine Morgane, Capitaine Chester, Capitaine Bingham, and sondrie that of late daies hath been in diuers places of daunger, and good seruices. But this is to bee looked for, that the honourable sir Iames Croftes (now Controller of the Queenes Maiesties houshold) sir Ihon Walloppe, sir Iames Wilfforde, and sir Ihon Bellyngame, bee not forgotten, and that euery one of these, as remembrance shall serue me, be breefly spoken of. For if at large I touched some of their noble exploites, (that laste I haue made mention of) I should make a greate volume of the same, and so seeme to write a Chronicle, that meanes but to treate of a fewe passages, for the passyng of the tyme, and the pleasuryng of my freendes.

The seruices of sir Iames Croftes, maie well bee vnderstoode, if you loke into the siege of Bullein: The warres of Scotlande, and the troublesome affaires of Irelande, where he was Lorde Deputie. And who that looketh depely in the mannagyng of those matters, shall iustely of hym self, yeelde due honoure to the persone that hath taken these paines, without the reporte of my penne, or further publishyng of the same.

Sir Ihon Walloppe that long remained gouernour of [Page] Gines: and the seruice of the good knight Bellyngame, once lorde Deputie of Irelande, are of no little moment. For the one had suche a hurt by a counter boffe that he got at Laundersey, that he carried it to his death (albeit he liued long after, and did many greate thynges) and the other was giuen to suche valliauntnesse (as his doynges doe declare) that in a maner we can not imagine more worthinesse in twoo men, nor rightly attribute vnto them, the glorie thei deserue.

If neuer any seruice but the siege of Haddyngton were spoken of, it were sufficient enough, and a witnesse greate to shewe the greate mynde, and manly courage of sir Iames Wilfforde. For he beeyng there as generall, helde out the force of Fraunce, and power of Scotlande: the Queene mother lookyng and liyng at the siege, and the Toune was so battered and beaten, that men on horsebacke might haue ridden ouer the breache. Yet notwithstandyng, besides a nomber of other greate causes, to make men rander a Forte, sir Iames Wilfforde kepte the enemies out: and did so noblie euery waie, neither scarcitie of victuall, nor want of pouder could moue his inuincible mynde. For the more was the miserie, the greater grewe his harte, and hope to haue good Fortune: for the whiche assured fortitude and determinate purpose, he purchased euerlastyng renowne. And liues at this daie in as freshe memorie, as he were seen presently before the eyes of the people.

In that season was a place called Donglasse at our deuotion, where one maister Aston was placed, and an other fort beyonde Fiffeside called Broghttie Cragge, where sir Ihon Luttrell did serue verie valliauntely a longe tyme. And at a Toune nere the same Forte called Dondie, Sir Willyam Winter and others, did a greate peece of seruice, worthie the rehearsall. But for that Broghttie Cragge was at the length loste, for lacke of succour out of Englande, I leaue out muche matter, that otherwise I had written.

After the Siege of Haddyngton was raised, and the [Page] Frenche had withdrawen their batterie, and the old Erle of Shrewesburie was come with an armie, and laie at a place called Abberladie. The Earle of Linkcolne that now is, beeyng Lorde Admirall, landed a greate companie of soldiours at a Pile called sainct Minius, where our Fortune was but frowarde: and for that I was taken prisoner there, and our people had no greate good happe: It shall remaine vntouched any further.

A little before this, betwene Tom Tallent and the Basse some Frenche Gallies were placed, and three of our Shippes liyng in vewe of theim, (the Antheloppe, the Harte, and the Grand Mestresse, so were the three Shippes called) hoissed vp Sailes to feight with the Galleis, whiche were twoo and twentie in nomber: but there befell suche a misfortune by castyng aboute to fetche aborde, that our Shippes fell one in others takell, and were so harde clasped together, through meane of mischaunce, that thei might not shoote at aduauntage, to annoye the enemie. Who espiyng this oportunitie, came orderly forward, and shot many shott of Cannons emong vs, breakyng doune a Maste or twoo, and killing a fewe persones. But in the ende the Shippes were set free, and my Lorde Admirall had sent to our succours, and the calme was gone, in so muche that the gale of Wynde blewe our shippes full vpon the Gallies, whiche the French beeyng in feare of, drewe apace towardes the Shore, and ranne their Gallies on grounde. But ere thei could departe out of our daunger, wee were so nere them, that our Bowe men shot into their Gallies, and our Cannons made a great murther, and hauocke emong the poore slaues, whose leggs armes, and Ores I sawe flie about, as the force of our shotte might attaine them.

These Gallies hopyng to keepe victuall from Broghttie Cragge, crepte a long by the Shore, and encountred a Shippe wherein was Capitaine Peers (now seruyng in Irelande, and then a venterar) and laied so sore to his charge [Page] that thei shotte his Ensigne through and through, and were like to haue bouged the Shippe, but he mindyng more his reputation, then regardyng the hazarde he was in, plied the Gallies so well, that thei durste not approche ouer nere, and so in the meane while came a lustie gale of winde, and sente Capitaine Peers from the Frenche Gallies, to his greate safetie, and the comfort of his freendes and countrey men.

Our Shippes manned furthe Boates, and set vppon diuerse sailes that laie in Bornte Ilande, and so spoiled them, and lefte them on a flamyng fire: and thereon rowed towardes a mightie greate Carrecke, that laie vnder the succoure of Ynchskeeth, and boorded the same Carreck, and so burnt it: the fire whereof discharged many greate shotte in the said Shippe, before our menne could come aborde againe, but that shotte did little hurte at all: and our Nauie in the meane season, laie in the mouthe of the Frithe, not farre from an Ilande called the Maay.

Within a short while after, was there a lustie gentilman (and a seruiceable) sent to take Yntchskeeth, his name was maister Ihon Cotton, a Capitaine of good account, he landed and valliauntly tooke the Ilande, but when our Shipps departed from the Frithe, the Frenche and Scottes menne entered the Ilande againe, and recouered it to our greate discontent: in whiche furie and fight Capitain Cotton was slaine, albeeit he did what became a man of stoute harte and courage, and fought it out to the laste man in his companie: whiche made the enemies maruaile, consideryng thei were voide of hope to be succoured and releued.

The Scottes and Frenchemen takyng a greate despite, to goe without Haddyngton liyng so long before it, determined in a mornyng to assaile it manfully, and to trie what Fortune and force of menne might compasse. So the Ryngraue and nombers of the Frenche side, came priuelie from Edenborough, and set vpon the base courte of Haddyngton, and in verie deede were likely to haue distressed the Toune, [Page] if good watche and circumspection had not preuented that approche. For the enemies were in the base Court, and beganne to glorie muche of their conquest, but one gaue fire to a greate peece that stoode full of haileshotte, at the enterie of the gate, and slue diuerse of the enemies, whereat our men issued and dealt so valliauntly with the enemie that thei retired, and loste all their labour. At this tyme either sir Iames A Croftes was generall there, or anone after. For Sir Iames Wilfforde was either before taken prisoner at Donbarre, or within a shorte season after. But how so euer that cace standeth, the soldiours of Haddyngton kept the toune, and wanne suche fame thereby, that to this present age thei are spoken of and honoured.

Whiles these thynges were in dooyng, tyme roulled on, and produced further matter. For the wheele tourned, and Fortune so frouned at our prosperitie, that the worlde began to fall to declination, and so Haddyngton was rased, and left to those that would possesse it, and the Frenche hauing some hope, to recouer what thei loste before, tooke occasion offred by some sodaine alteration, and common course of worldlie affaires, and therevpon thei besieged Bullein Barke, the old Man, and many other members belongyng to Bullein, and a greate capitaine called Mounsire de Termes was in Scotlande, preparyng to besiege Lawther Forte, where Sir Hugh Willoughbie had gouernment, with whom was Capitaine Colbie, Capitaine Maneryng, Capitaine Haeles, Capitaine Whitton, Capitaine Colliar, Capitaine Knapp and others, whose names I haue forgot, albeeit I was then there newlie escaped out of Scotlande. The saied Mounsire de Termes laie a long Mile (with his whole Campe) from Lawtherfort, and wee to make hym sport, deuised that some lustie gentlemen, should clapp on white scarffes, and so ride like Scottes men into the enemies Campe, whiche we performed, and slue diuerse in the Markette place, and came awaie vntouched. And not contente with this little attempte [Page] (for emong our companies were soldiours of Haddyngton) wee daiely offered to skirmishe, when in the feelde was alwaies to encounter vs fiue to one of as good Soldiours, as then were to bee founde in Fraunce. But our hope and forewardnesse was suche, that euery seconde daie, we did somewhat worthy the meetyng: and at this seruice came one Ihō Carr of Warke (a valliaunte olde Capitaine, and a speciall Soldiours in those partes) and brought harde Cheese and pouder to vs. For the eatyng of Horses did argue, harde Cheese was as welcome as pouder: yet none of them bothe might be spared in that extremitie.

Mounsire de Termes beyng desirous of victorie, determined to come with Ladders, and so to scale the fort, wherof we had woorde, and prepared to receiue hym with an vnfreendly welcome: and for that we founde he brake his daie, and would waxe wearie of rest, by long liyng idle in a place. The Generall caused all the greate Ordinaunce of the fort, to bee bente fullie vppon Determes his Campe (Capitaine Manneryng in deede putte that deuice in hedde and practise first) and early in the mornyng on an Easter daie, the whole greate artillerie was discharged on Determes his Campe, which slue diuerse, and so vexed the Campe: that as you see a nomber of Crowes flie out of a wood, when a harkaboize is shotte of, so the Frenchemen came out of their Hiue, that yeeldeth no Honie, and gaue vs a sower and sharpe encounter. For in a small season thei draue vs out of the feelde, and gaue an attempte to winne the base Courte, where wee attended their commyng, and stroue with them so stoutly, that in that struggle wee were ioyned, and wrastled together, as daungerously as any man liuyng maie imagine, but in suche order, that the Frenche were forced to retire a little, and we were faine to recouer the Forte: and yet the Frenche so valliauntly handled their busines, that thei laye vnder the rampire of the Base courte, and slue sondrie of our soldiours, that could not in due season come in. Emong the cheef Capitaine [Page] Manneryng had his deathes wounde, and fell doune in the dike before the gate: whose bodie we recouered with very little losse, but he died within three daies after. And the Frēche missyng that thei sought, retired that presente night to their Campe: where thei abode not tenne daies, but a peace was concluded, and we marched all towardes Barwicke.

Now here is to bee noted, that in those daies wee had greate soldiours a liue, and moste of theim at Barwicke, as Capitaine Honte, Capitaine Sanders, Capitaine Tems, Capitaine Pickman, and verie many others of good experience and credite.

Now I muste leaue to your iudgementes (and readyng of other bookes) the warres of Scotlande, and will shewe you of some seruices that happened in Irelande, duryng the tyme that sir Anthonie Sellenger was Lorde deputie there who was a graue and fatherly wise gouernour, and had muche a doe in that countrey, to bryng thynges in good perfection and quietnesse. For the Lordes of that soile, were at that presence giuen to sondrie troublesome practises, whom he reformed, and set in very peaceable estate: emong the rest was one Makarttie More, whiche helde out a greate season, but the Lorde Deputie goyng against hym with an armie, made hym come in at Corke, where vppon his humble submission, I sawe hym beare the sworde before the Lorde Deputie. Yet albeeit, that in this and many other seruices, sir Anthonie Sellenger at seuerall tymes, deserued greate commendation (he beeyng a knight of the Garter) yet his fortune was so aduerse and contrarie, that he was seldome at home in his Countrey out of trouble, and daunger of displeasure, and felte as many haue dooen (that gouerned Irelande) the self same plague that Scipio Affricane possessed for his praise, the greef whereof brought sir Anthonie to his graue: as the workes I could shewe of his one pennyng can testifie. For this honourable knight had an excellent gifte to write in verse or prose, and was of so tractable a nature and [Page] condition, that moste men did honour hym, as muche for his vertues, as for his office and callyng. But my matter depē deth not onely in one mannes merites or praise: wherefore I doe passe to other thynges, that commeth to my mynde.

In Irelande at those daies was the noble Capitaine Randall, Capitaine Masterson, Capitaine Lippiarde, Capitaine Thomas Smith, Capitain Coolley, and a nomber of other Capitaines that now are out of my remembraunce, who for seruice and well doyng, are nothing inferiour to many good Capitaines that I haue named before.

The honourable sir Iames A Crofttes was Lorde Deputie of Irelande (and had taken the sworde at Corke of sir Anthonie Sellenger) at this season when many greate thinges was to bee dooen: And he had no small regarde to his charge and gouernement, the seruices theim selues, are sufficiente argumente of his no little labour and diligence, and maie well enough declare that whiche I omit, and for want of laisure doe not speake of.

Now the warres burste out betweene the French kyng and the Emperour, on whose sides sondrie Englishe gentlemen, serued for knowledge sake, and reputation. And on the French side did Capitaine Crayer, Capitaine Twittie and their companie florishe, and did many exploites, as in an other place of my booke I haue reported. And on the Emperours side was Capitaine Plonket, Capitaine Matson, and a greate nomber of verie valliaunt soldiours of our nation, who sought nothyng but credite, renowme, and good report. Sir Willyam Drewrie (now Lorde Iustice of Irelande) was then so gallauntly disposed, that he did but daiely search where, or how he might bestowe his tyme in seruice, and so serued a long season, to his greate commendation with the Emperour, as heretofore I haue rehearsed. And he was so enclined to Marshall affaires, that when forraine warres were ended, he sought entertainement at Gines and those partes, whiche had warre with the Frenche, for kyng Phillippes [Page] quarrell. And he hauyng charge, and a lustie bande of horsemen did many thynges, that merites good likyng. For at that tyme was muche adoe, and a bande of horsemen verie well appoincted, and full of gentlemen, was sente from the lorde Warden, an honourable and a worthie gentleman, (moste full of noblenesse) the Lorde Cheinees father now liuyng. In this bande, and belongyng to that charge, was sondrie of the Keises, gentlemen of good seruice, maister Crippes hauyng the leadyng of all that companie. There was sente in like sorte from the Prince, Maister Willyam Harbertes brother of sainct Gillians, called maister George Harbertte, with a bande of footemen, and one Capitaine Borne whose Lieutenaunt I was, at the siege of Gines.

These bandes a good season before Callice and Gines were taken, ioynyng with other bandes of Callice, did make diuerse iourneis into Bollinnoyes, and sped verie well: Sir William Dreurie at euery seruice, deserued no little praise, and one Capitaine Winnibancke an auncient soldiour, was oftentymes so forward, that he was ronne ones through the buttocke with a Launce: Many gentlemen in those seruices did well and worthely: And sondrie tymes the Lorde Wardeins bande was to be praised. And at length a voyage was made by the consente, and whole power of Callice and Gines, to fetche a prey from Bolleyn gates (Mounsire Snarppoule then beeyng gouernour of Bolleyn) but we could not handle the matter so priuilie, but the Frenche by espiall, had gotten woorde thereof. Notwithstandyng, as Soldiours commonly goes forwarde with their deuise: so we marched secretly all the whole night, to come to our purposed enterprise: and our footemen whereof sir Harry Palmer (a man of greate experience) had the leadyng. He remained with the whole power of footemen nere the Blacke Neastes, as a stale to annoye the enemie, and succour for suche as were driuen in, if any suche occasion came. So the horse bandes brake into the Countrey, and preased nere Bollayne, where [Page] was a greate nomber of gallaunt soldiours to receiue them? but our horsemen makyng small accounte of the matter, beganne to prey the countrey, and driue a bootie from the face of the enemies. The Frenche horsemen takyng their aduauntage, offered a skirmishe to detracte tyme, till better oportunitie serued to giue a charge. This couragious bickeryng grewe so hotte, that the Frenche bandes beganne to showe, and our menne must abide a shocke, or retire hardely with some foile, wherevppon the cheefest of our horsemen, charged those of the Frenche that were nerest daunger, by whiche attempt the Frenche staied a while, but vpon a small pause thei charged our menne againe, and ouerthrewe of the Blacke Launces a thirtie, carriyng awaie with theim into Bulleyne, eighteene gentlemen prisoners. This skirmishe beganne at seuen of the clocke in the mornyng, and lasted in verie greate seruice till a leuen. And from this ouerthrowe came diuerse Soldiours fore wounded, to our foote bandes whose heauinesse made the valliaunte sorte plucke vp their hartes, and seeke a reuenge.

Then albeeit that foote Capitaines and Gentlemen, seldome leaues their bandes, and venters beyonde their charge (a rule to bee muche regarded) yet the stoutest Capitaines and Gentlemen, founde meanes to horse theim selues on Carte horses, and vittellers nagges, and put certain skarffes, in maner of Guidons on staues endes, shewyng those Guidons vnder a hill in seuerall sortes, sometymes appearyng with twentie men, sometymes thirtie: and laste of all made shewe of all our nomber, whiche was not fiftie, and so with a courageous crie, sette vppon the enemies (leauyng some of these deuised Guidons behinde on the hill toppe) and charged theim with suche a furie, that thei lefte their bootie, and stoode to their defence, but in fine were forced to retire, for by the little staie wee helde the enemie in, our footemen had laisure to marche, the sounde of whose Drommes gaue no greate courage to the Frenche. For thei thereon gaue [Page] backe, and lefte some of their beste soldiours behinde theim, whiche wee brought to Gines, driuyng the prey before vs, that was gotten in the mornyng, loste in a skirmishe, and recouered againe at Noone. At this seruice was Sir Willyam Druerie, Capitaine Alexander of Newnam Bridge, Capitaine Crippes, Capitaine Reyes, and three of his brethren, Capitaine George Harbert, and sondrie others in like maner, that merites good reporte.

Our power mett many tymes together, and did muche hurte at Bolleynnoyes: and we besieged Fines Castell and wanne it. Blosshyng Churche, and ouerthrewe it, and killed all the men that therein wee founde: because sir Harry Palmer was hurte through the arme there with a shotte.

A long season our fortune was good, till at length by some ouersight or mishappe (lette the blame faule where it ought) we loste Callice, and Gines. But a little I praie you giue me leaue, to touche truely the siege of Gines, not because I had some charge there: But for that sondrie reportes hath been raised thereof, by those that neuer throughlie knewe, or vnderstoode the matter. The verie trothe is, after Callice was wonne, and that all hope was taken from vs, for any succour out of Englande, our generall the honourable Lorde Greye that is dedde, and maister Leawes Diue his Lieutenaunt, sir Harry Palmer, and all the Capitaines of Gines: Determined to abide the worste that Fortune, or the Frenche could doe. And the daie of the first approche the enemie made, wee offered a hotte and stoute skirmishe, but beyng driuen in by an ouer greate power (though our whole people were thirteene hundreth men) we kepe the Toune awhile. But consideryng the Castell to bee moste strongest, and doubtyng by a Cambozade, or sodaine assault, the toune might be wōne (for it was but weake) we retired our whole power into the Castell, and so manned the base Courte, the Braies, an Bulwarkes, the Keepe, the Catte, the harte of the Castell, and all that was necessarie with double menne. [Page] And out of Flaunders at the presente siege, came fiftie valliaunt Spaniardes, and a bande of Burgonions, Mounsire Dieffkie beyng their Capitaine, and Mounsire Mon Dragon was leader of the Spaniardes. These Burgoniōs were placed in Mary Bulwarke with Capitaine Bornes bande, whose Lieutenaunte I was. The fiftie Spaniardes were placed in the Braies, where Capitaine Lambert had some shott to succour them. Against this Bulwarke (whiche was thought inprenable) the greate Batterie was planted, albeit three or fower daies were spente (wee helde the enemies suche plaie) before the Batterie was planted.

And one daie we issued, and sette vppon Mounsire Degwyes, as he was in a place called Milfeelde, vewyng of the grounde, and had taken hym had not he lefte his cloke behinde hym, on the whiche white cloke, one of our gentlemen had holde of: And though that he was succoured, we brought awaie some of his companie, and retired with little losse, or none at all. We sette vpon a greate troupe of horsemen, not long before this, that came from the spoile of Callice, and tooke nombers of them. For I had for my parte, a couple of faire horses and a prisoner: at bothe these seruices was olde Capitaine Andrea, Capitaine Ihon Sauage, and a sufficiente nomber of lustie Soldiours. And the Lorde Graie that now is, was at the harde escape of Mounsire Degwies.

We made diuerse sallies, but that preuailed not, for the Battrie went of, and many other greate Cannons did beate at the hye Towres, the stones whereof did marueilously anoye vs: and the shotte was so greate, and suche greate aduauntage of grounde the enemies had gotten, that we could not walke, nor goe saffely no any waie within the Castell. For our generall and sir Harry Palmer sittyng on a forme, deuisyng for our commoditie, were in suche daunger, that a Cannon shotte tooke awaie the forme, and brake sir Harry Palmers legge (of whiche hurte he died in Parice after) and a greate shotte tooke of maister Wakes hedde, as he was [Page] slepyng vnder a greate Tree. And so sonderie that thought them selues saffe, were so dribbed at with Cannot shot, that thei neuer knewe who did hurte them. Well, the tyme drew on after the breache was made, we must defende the assault, that was geuen to Mary Bulwarke, whiche stoode out of the Castell, and farre from succour of any, because the gate was rammed vp, and we could not passe into the Castle but by that waie. Firste a long the Braies, and then betweene twoo gates, whiche waie the enemie had espied, and placed many greate shotte full vpon that passage.

Nowe Mounsire Diffkie, Capitaine Borne, Capitaine Oswolde Lambertt, and the fiftie Spanyardes, were forced to abide the assalte, whiche begaime at a leuen a Clocke, and lasted till night. Mount Dragon came into Mary Bulwarke, and three gentlemen more, and stoode stoutly to our defence, twoo of them were slaine. My Capitaines hedde was smitten of with a Cannons shot, and Capitaine Diffkie was wounded to the death, whose bande fought manfully in the reuenge of their Capaine, and vnto our bande was left no more but one maister Holford, and I to gide the whole companie. And the old Capitaine Andrea, couetous of Fame, was desirous to haue our fellowship: but he had no bande nor people to dooe vs pleasure. Capitaine Lambert was crossed with a greate shot, and myne armour with the breakyng of a greate peece, was stricken flat vpon my bodie, but beyng vnbraced I might continue the seruice: whiche seruice in myne opinion, was so terriblie handled by the Frenche, (Mounsire Dandelot beyng the leader of the assault) that bothe Englishe, Burgonion, and Spanyard at that Bulwarke had enough to doe to keepe the enemie out. And as I beleeue at this assaulte, wee loste a hundreth and fiftie good soldiours: but the night commyng on, the French surseased their furie, and yet kepte them selues closely vnder the toppe of the breache, where our shotte nor flankers could doe them no harme. For all our greate Ordinaunce was dismounted [Page] long before the enemie made any approche, for the giuyng of an assault.

The nexte daie within three halfe howers, the Batterie had beaten the breache so bare (whiche molded awaie like a hillocke of Sande) that wee were forced to feight on our knees, and beeyng kepte wakyng all the night before, with false Allarummes, our men began to fainte, and waxe wearie of workyng at the breach. But we defended Mary Bulwarke so well, all that daungerous daie, that the Frenche loste a thousande Soldiours by their owne confession, at the same seruice: and yet the assaulte endured to the very darcke night, with as muche crueltie as could bee deuised. And alwaies when the enemies first men, did waxe feeble with labour, there was a seconde and newe releef of freshe bandes, to continue the assault. So that as long as the daie light serued, it seemed by the fight a bloodie broile hath no ende, nor season to take breathe in, whiche certainly would haue daunted any harte liuyng.

The nexte night was so plied with polliticke practises, that wee had skarcely laysure to take any reste, or sustentation: and in deede with ouer watchyng, some of our men fell a slepe in the middell of their tale, and tyme of greatest necessitie, to debate and argue of those thynges, that pertained to life and libertie, and to auoide vtter seruitude and shame. And now wee that were without the Castell, might heare a greate businesse and sturre, throughout the whole bodie and harte of the peece. For the nexte mornyng (whiche was the third daie, we were assaulted) our generall looked for a generall assault, and to bee assailed roundely, as of trothe he was. In the meane while we might speake one to an other▪ a farre of, and our freendes aunswered vs ouer the wall: for nerer together we might not come, and for succour or aide in Mary Bulwarke to our soldiours we hoped not after. Euery man was occupied with his owne businesse and charge, that no one persone might bee spared from his place. Well, as God [Page] would permit, the poore Spaniardes, and suche Burgoniōs (as was left vs a liue in Mary bulwark) fell to make a coū ter skarffe to beate out the enemie from the Braie, when the Bulwarke should be wonne, as it was likely to bee loste, the breache was so bare, and the entrie for the enemie was so large. For in a maner thei might assaulte our Bulwarke rounde about on all sides, and did lodge at the verie edge of the breache, to the nomber of twoo thousande of their brauest bandes, mindyng to assaile vs, as sone as the daie began to pepe out of the skies.

Whiche thei performed when the third daie approched, for a generall assault was giuen to euery place of the Castle whiche assaulte endured till the verie night came on, and the Frenche in this assaulte wanne the base Courte, and were readie to sette fire vnder the gate, and blowe it vp with pouder. And Mounsire Dandelot his owne persone, was entered Mary Bulwarke, with twoo thousande soldiours, who slue the Spaniardes in the Braie, and forced as many Burgonions and Englishe as was lefte a liue (whiche was but fifteene of fower hundred) to leape doune into the Dikes, and so to scamble for their liues, and creepe into a hole of a bricke wall: that my Lorde Grate had broken vp, to receiue suche as eskaped from the assaulte, whiche was Capitaine Andrea, Capitaine Lambert, and my self with twelue common Soldiours. But when wee had entered the hole in the wall, the Frenche followed at our heeles, and we to saue our liues tourned againe, bendyng Pikes againste the passage, and so shotte of one Hargaboze, by whiche meanes the enemie followed no further: And yet we were in as greate distresse as before. For wee were betweene twoo gates, and at the gate we should haue entered, was twoo greate Cannons readie charged to be shotte of, to driue them backe that would haue sette fire on the gate. And the crie and noise was so greate, and terrible on all sides, that we could not be harde speake. But as God would maister Lewes Diue (a man of [Page] warshippe now in Bedforde Shire) hears my voice, then I plied the matter so sore for life, so that with muche a dooe, maister Diue receiued vs into the harte of the Castell: and yet in the openyng of the gate, the Frenche were like to enter pelley melley with vs, if a Cannot shotte had not made place, whiles the gate was a shuttyng. But now wee were no soner come before my Lorde Graie, but all the soldiours cried, yeelde vp the Castell vppon some reasonable composition. And when the Soldiours sawe, thei could not haue the Castell yeelded: thei threatened to flyng my Lorde Graye ouer the walles, and that was determined, if my Lorde had not preuented them with a pollicie. Wherevpon the Capitaines were called together, and there thei agreed, to sende me to Mounsire Degwise with an offer, that if we might all marche with bagge and baggage, Ensigne displaied, and sixe peeces of Ordinaunce, we would yeelde the Castell into the handes of the Frenche. Now was it night, and I muste bee let out at maister Harry Norwitche his Bulwarke: but neither Dromme nor Trompet wentte with me, because a Trompettor was slaine, as he sounded to haue a parley, and as I heard saie, a Dromme that would haue followed me, was shotte into the legge. But there was no remedie, but I must wade ouer the water: in whiche water laye certain galthroppes, as thei tearme them, whiche were greate bordes, full of long spikes of Iron, on the whiche hauyng good bootes, and a staie in my hande, I was taught daintely to tread, and the night was so darcke, that the enemie might not take any good marke of me, (albeit thei shotte diuerse tymes) so with some hazard, and no greate hope to attaine that I was sent for, I was taken by the watche, and brought to Mounsire Degwises tent, where duke D'omale, and many greate estates were in presence, my message beeyng saied, with decent reuerence made. The Duke tolde me that all our Ordinaunce was dismounted, and that therby our mallice was cutte of, and we could not doe his Campe any annoyaunce: [Page] Wherefore saied he, this was a stoute bragge, to seeke a capitulation with suche aduauntage vpon. I replied to his excellencie, and tolde that wee had flanckers, and other greate peeces, whiche would not be discouered till the next assault, declaryng likewise our soldiours had sworne, rather to dye in their defence, then not to marche awaie like men of warr. The noble men on this myne aunswere badde me retourne, and will the reste of the Castell, to doe the worste thei could: So I departed, and the Duke of Gwise beholdyng (as he thought) we were resolued to see the vttermoste of Fortune, called me backe againe, and fell to questions and argumentes with me, suche as I liked not. But other aunswere did I not make, then before you haue heard: wherewith he called for some meate, and made me to sitte doune, and after I had a little refreshed my self, I demaunded to knowe his pleasure: Who straight waies tolde me there was no helpe to be had, but to become all captiues, and prisoners to the French kyng: Not so sir, I aunswered, and that should the nexte assault make triall thereof. Then he went to talke with the noble men, and there thei concluded, that the soldiours should marche awaie with bagge and baggage, and the capitaines and officers should remaine prisoners, whiche I knewe would not bee liked, and so desired to bee sente to my Lorde Graie. But when I came into the Castell, and the soldiours had gotten woorde, that thei might marche awaie at their will: Thei came to me, and threatened me with greate wordes, commaundyng to make dispatche, and yeelde vp the Forte. For saied thei, since the matter is in talke, and likelie to be brought to a good purpose, thei would cutte my throte, if I made not hastely an ende of the cace. And thereon had thei made a greate hole in a walle, and so thei thruste me out emong the Almaines, who rudely handeled me. But my Lorde Graie at my departure, badde me tell the Duke, that the Almaines were aboute to breake into the Castell, and to sette the gate a fire: and my Lorde saied, he would shoote of [Page] his greate Ordinaunce emong theim, if the lawe of Armes wer not better obserued. But in the meane tyme at an other place was entered Mounsire de Tre, maister of the Ordinaunce, and the Lorde Graie that now is, was sent into the Campe, for the paune of Mounsire De Tre. But I was come to Mounsire Degwise, before those thynges were finished, and had tolde hym my message: And he like a noble Prince, and faithfull Capitaine roade to the gate (causyng me to mounte behynde maister Harry Dudley) where the Almaines were busily occupied aboute some naughtie practise: and with a greate trontchon he strake diuers of the Almaines and others, to make them retire, and laiyng loade about hym, he made suche waie that the gate was free. And the capitulation was at laysure talked of, but I was not suffred to enter no more into the Castell: and so staied as a prisoner, notwithstandyng, looke what promesse Mounsire Degwise made, it was so well kepte and obserued, that our soldiours marched awaie with all their wealthe, money, or weapons: And greate wealth was by them borne from Gines, in so muche that diuers poore Soldiours, were made thereby all their life daies after. And this was to bee noted, there was greate honour in the Duke of Gwise, for the bandes that parted either sicke or sounde, hurte or whole, were honestly conueighed, and truely dealte withall, euen as long as thei were in any daunger (albeit thei had greate sommes of money and Threasure with theim) and the Generall, his Capitaines and Officers were courteouslie vsed, so long as we were in the Duke of Gwise his Campe. And to saie the truth, I thinke our peace was not so dishonourable, as some reporte: For succour had wee no hope of: The nexte assaulte had ouerthrowen vs: The whole members of the Castell were cutte of from vs. There remained but the bare bodie of the Castell in our custodie. The enemies Cannons did beate vs from the breache on the in side: The Castell was subiect to euery shotte, bothe from the Keepe, the Catte, and [Page] Mary Bulwarke. The Frēche possessed all the speciall places of our strength and comforte. The beste and cheefest of our soldiours were slaine, or laye maimed in moste miserable estate. And we had loste eight hundreth men, in these assaultes and seruices, whiche did their duetie so well, that the enemie confessed, that thei had loste fower thousande, before wee could bee brought to any parley and composition. But some of our Officers by crafte and cunnyng, escaped home out of the Frenche mennes handes: came to the Court, and made vp their bandes againe, to the greate reproche of those that ment no suche matter: and so by that subteltie and shift, thei that escaped gatte a paye, or some reward of the prince. And those that abode out the bronte, and hazarde of the bloodie broile, were lefte in prison: and the worlde thought by seyng so many come home, we had loste but a fewe at the siege of Gynes. Whiche is otherwise to be proued, and affirmed for a trothe, when true triall shalbe made.

Callice was loste before, I can not declare how, but well I wotte Sir Anthonie Ager a stoute gentleman, and a valliaunte knight there loste his life, and one Capitaine Saule was terrible burnte with pouder, in makyng a traine to destroye the enemie.

Now leauyng of these vncomfortable discourses, I will shewe what gentlemen of ours after, serued in sondrie soiles where many greate Princes were in daiely exercises of warre, and many greate victories and exploites were to be seen, and though I write not the iourneis in right order, as one that writes a Chronicle maie dooe, yet the matter I write of shalbe so true, that it shalbe needlesse to shewe what season, the causes were put in practise, or make mention in due order of the date and tyme, of suche noble enterprises, for your common Chronicles can sufficiently satiffie you in those poinctes.

The seruices on the Sea I doe sette aparte by them selues, and so here I proceede in some matter, whiche toucheth [Page] a peece of the businesse of Flaunders and Fraūce, where diuers of our gētlemen wer, and beheld many great exploites.

Now is to be noted, that M. Henry Champernowne of Deuonshire, after his returne from the warres of Hungarie serued in the cause of the Protestantes of Fraūce, of his own proper charges in the second Ciuile warres, with xij. gentlemen or more. And in the thirde Ciuile warres after the battaile of Iarnag, he serued with an hundred men of his owne proper costes. Likewise accompanied and followed these gentlemenne, Edward Barkley, Phillip Budsed, Gawine Champernowne, Richard Kirkam, Walter Rawley, Carro Rawley, Ranoldes, Hugh Vdall, Thomas Courtney, Willyam Fonte, Richard Keyes, Willyam Walwyng, Thomas Atkins and others, whereof some retourned after the death of the olde Prince of Conde. But maister Henry Champernowne, as one desirous of renowme, and greedie of glorie gotten by seruice, remained till his death, where liuely fame was to be wonne: and serued so nobly and so gallantly, as the whole Campe where he was in, sounded of his valliantnesse, and many of those gentlemen that he brought with hym, augmented so muche his fame, that to this daie his deedes and theirs, are moste noblie spoken of, greatly to the honour of all our Englishe Nation. For his gentlemen (or the moste parte of them) loste their liues with their Capitaine, muche is to be saied in this matter. But I must returne to giue others their due praise: that serued in Fraunce and Flaunders, in these perillous tymes, and daies of no little daunger.

Emong the reste I finde, that Sir Willyam Morgane was one: For he came on his owne voluntary will and charges, with the yong Brickamone (and a fewe other Frenche gentlemen) to a toune called Vallencia, and at their enterie, whiche was on a Sondaie mornyng, the Spaniardes that helde the Castell issued, and thought to expulse bothe French and Burgonions out of the Toune. And in deede the common [Page] soldiours hauyng small harte to maintaine their quarrell, beganne to shrinke. But the Frenche gentlemen, and sir Willyam Morgan gaue a charge on the Spaniardes (after a long skirmishe and muche adooe) and draue them into the Castell, and followed the Spanyardes so faste, that thei sett a fire the drawe bridge, because by that meanes thei thought that the Spaniardes should make no more sallies, to assaile the Toune.

Vpon this seruice sir Willyam Morgan (by the gouernour of Vallencia) had a goodly gentilmannes house giuen hym, stuffed with gooddes, and furnished with Wines and victuall for a long yere, that might haue serued his people and hym: if his happe had been there to haue remained. But the Graue Lodwicke sent for Sir Willyam, to come vnto Mowns in Henault, and after he had been there but a weeke he had the Threasurers house, and all his substaunce deliuered hym.

The Duke of Alua besieged this Toune, where many greate skirmishes and seruices, were offered on bothe the sides, albeit the Dukes power did farre excede the Coūt de Lodwickes, yet euery daie the soldiours of the Toune did the vttermoste thei could, to disquiete the Dukes Campe. And vndoubtedly the valliauncie and courage, of theim that were besieged, was so greate and so noble, that their verie enemies commended theim for the same. For it was no ordinarie maner of seruice thei did shewe, but rather a newe deuised excersice of warre, to make the assailantes as muche astonished at their enemies stoutenesse, as take any hope to winne the Toune by any aduauntage might bee espied. And in this maner of seruice the tyme was spent along season, to the euerlastyng praise and fame of those, that stode in the Tounes defence.

Sir Willyam Morgan was not idell, in no one peece of all these bickerynges, and at the length behelde the commyng of the Prince of Orranges power of horsemen; whose [Page] power encountryng with the Duke of Aluaes force, in a mornyng betymes continued in skirmishe, till three a clocke in the after noone: and so with the losse and slaughter of eight or nine hundred men, the twoo forces did depart and seuered.

The Prince of Orrange thus marchyng awaie, had giuen occasion to the Duke to followe, or goe about some pollicie: and after at a place called Sainct Gillyng, the Dukes force gaue a greate ouerthrowe, to the Prince of Orrenges side. Whiche conflicte did argue, there was no hope of succours, to be looked for from the Prince, at that present necessitie: and Mowns standyng in this extreme daunger, and beyng not well furnished with thynges, that pertained to a long siege, (besides their Generall Count de Lodwick was sicke) the Soldiours and Tounes men beganne to giue eare to a parley, and so a peace was concluded, on a straite composition: whiche was that all the Soldiours in the Toune (sauyng a fewe Almaines with the Count de Lodwick, and himself) should sweare neuer after to beare armour against the kyng of Spaine, or of Fraunce.

Sir Willyam Morgan hearyng of that othe, required rather death, then to make a promesse paste the compasse of his alleagance, and duetie to his owne Countrey: and saied, that he would neuer cōdescende to suche a straight composition, though life and all he had, laye vppon the refuse thereof. Wherevpon a newe parley and cōmunication was had, and there the Duke graunted sir Willyam Morgan, and those Englishemen he had with hym, to marche awaie in the same order and libertie of mynde, that the Count de Locwick and his Almaines had obtained.

The Toune beyng randered into the handes of the duke of Aluae, there were that perswaded sir Willyam, to leaue the companie of the Count de Lodwick, because it was presupposed that he should bee slaine, or scape hardely from the Duke. But sir Willyam beholdyng the honourable dealinges of the Counte (and espectyng the regard that the Duke [Page] ought to haue to the lawe of Armes, and performaunce of a Princes promesse) determined to putte all to the hazarde of Fortune, and to followe the Count de Lodwicke, who marched saffely toward the Prince. Suthe was the faithfulnesse and vsage of the Duke at that season: that the Counte tame to his brother the Prince, at his will and pleasure, who laye with an armie at Riermont. The Frenchemen had forsaken the companie of the Counte before, and had procured that a passeport, should be giuen to sir Willyam Morgan, to passe through Flaunders by Iulian Romeroes freendshipp, a gallaunt auncient man of warre. But Sir Willyam refusyng that courtesie, came with the Count to Riermounte, where the Prince embraced hym. And after the Princes Campe was dispersed, he had sir Willyam to his brother in Lawe, called the Count de Bergges, and so to West Frese lande, Holland, and many other partes that the Prince had then in possession. And in sondrie of these soiles sauyng in Hollande, sir Willyam Morgan serued with tenne great horses at his owne charges. For that he was the Quenes Maiesties seruaunt, and would not be bounde for wages, neither to passe the boundes of his duetie, nor to tarrie a longer terme in a forraine countrey, then good cause might commaunde hym. So thus muche haue I thought good to write of, in the behalfe of those that willyngly, haue offered them selues to seruices, worthie commendation.

Sir Humfrey Gilbart in this season (with a good nomber of soldiours, and Englishe gentlemen) was at Floshyng and serued well in those partes: and one Capitaine Morgan and maister Cotton a Pensioner, did their duetie so throughly, that muche was spoken of their praise: at whiche seruice one Capitaine Bowsar, and a valliaunte gentleman called maister Mackwillyam were slaine, with sondrie others of our nation, that did no whit forgette the former fame of our auncient predecessours and countreymen. And those that liued and serued there at that tyme, were well paied: For the [Page] Floshyngars had drawen many a good hande of the Spanishe Fleete, and were become wealthie with the spoiles, thei had by hazard gotten.

I haue made mention of the goyng of the Erle of Essex into Irelande, that fell out anone after this season, with whō was sir Willyam Morgan, maister Henry Bronkar, Capitaine Barkley, and sonderie other gentlemen, that endured to the ende of all the seruices, to their greate charges, hazard and paines. And for that I doe but breefly touche those thynges, and haue spoken on them heretofore, I commende the lengthe and discourses of those matters to youre iudgementes, that haue laisure to looke and read, what other men haue written of those causes.

Now I make a little recitall of a seruice, beeyng dooen betweene sainct Dennis and Parris, where the Conestable of Fraunce was slaine, in whose companie was maister Edward Barkley, attendyng on Mounsire Brizak. This battaill was attempted and fought, by the power of the king againste the Prince of Conde: whose force laye scattered a broade in the countrey aboute Parris, and yet the nomber of xviij. hundred horsemen, and three thousande footemen wer lefte at saincte Dennis. Whiche hearyng of the kynges power, marched towardes them, issued out of the Toune, and beganne the skirmishe moste daungerously, and with suche courage, as seldome hath been seen, or redde of: consideryng their power was so small, and the Parrisians were suche a multitude, and to tell the trothe, it seemed that the Prince of Condes force was but a handfull, in comparison of the contrary side. And it seemed a greate madnesse, or mockerie, for the small nomber to encounter with the greate and huge companie. But necessitie that either redoubleth the strength of menne, or dauntes the hartes of cowardes: had so plucked vp the hartes of this little nomber: that thei imagined thei rather sought againste children, then champions. And as it proued this little troupe presupposed, that in a multitude is [Page] many opions, and many that would rather bee at home in suretie, then abroad in daunger: whiche opinion and desire of of the weaker sorte, breedes oftentymes a confusion, and vtter mischeef emong a greate multitude. Well, albeit the hazard was marueilous, and the enterprise paste all the exspectation of man: yet the Prince of Condeis power did sette a good face on the matter, and plied the kynges force with shotte, and polliticke deuises of warre. Yea, in suche sorte, and with suche manhoode at euery encounter, some paied the beste blood in their bodies, and some were forced to giue a lustie charge, to staye and amuse the whole battaill. And charge vpon charge, was giuen on bothe sides moste noblie, with moste assured hope of victorie: And the fight beeyng begonne nere Saincte Dennies, endured from the windemilles, almoste to the suburbes of Parris. But alwaies as the multitude did ouerlaye the little bande, the small companies courage did encrease, and their myndes were become so greate, that thei thought the feelde to small, and the daie to short to shewe the valliauncie of their hartes. And in this their manly disposition, thei gatte grounde at euery charge thei gaue: And in fine beeyng furiously bente, compelled by greate Fortune and daungerous seruice, the kynges side to swaie a little about, and takyng the aduauntage offered, thei charged a bande of horsemen, where thei thought the Conestable of Fraunce stoode in troupe, and hitte so full vpon the marke thei shotte at, that the noble Mounsire Memorancie was slaine at the firste stroke, by the handes of one called capitaine Steward a Scottishe gentleman. Thus the Conestables death, and others of good credite beeyng knowne, and published emong the Parrisiens that came with hym to the feelde. Thei fled as faste as thei could, and so the whole armie was discouraged, and as thei might euery man made shift for hym self. But yet some order was kept emong them or els a great slaughter had been made: and yet in trothe the Prince of Condeis side were waxt so a wearie, that thei but [Page] looked for a tyme to take breathe in, and refreshe their ouerlaboured horses. Here maie the worlde beholde, what good Fortune the forward myndes of men maie attaine vnto, and what victorie and conquest is compassed, by a constaunt determination, and a resolute seruice: Whiche who that lookes into and regardes throughly, shall euer haue a prosperous successe. For in all battailes and seruices (where good Capitaines are the leaders) the valliauncie of menne commonly goes awaie with the garlande: and all worldly glorie and triumphes attendes, and waites on the worthinesse of mennes courages, as a thyng incident to those that dare aduenture by vallue, to striue for good fame.

The Kyng notwithstandyng this ouerthrowe, (whiche might not a little moue his Maiestie, raised a greate Armie after this, (when Sharters was besieged by the prince of Conde) and marched thetherwardes with a princely power: where was greate seruice, and many a man slaine before the siege was raised. But for that, but a fewe of any greate name loste their liues there: I write little of the particulars, and yet if I liste to delate, there is matter enough lefte, to enlarge my volume of the same seruice. Maister Edward Barkly was on the kynges side in like sort at this seruice: and at the reste of the Frenche warres, that followes on the Prince of Condies side.

Capitaine Barkley went after with the Prince of Conde, and was at the siege of sainct Ihon Dangill: At the siege of Poictiers: At the siege of Angulem: At the skirmishe of Lodwyne: At the skirmishe of Lasmirie: At the skirmishe of Pompero, in whiche skirmishes, many greate conflictes were giuen, and many thousandes were slaine. And a nomber of greate aduentures were to bee seen: the Chronicle of Fraunce settes theim foorthe at the full. For whiche cause I leaue out muche of the matter. And after Capitaine Barkley had been at all these seruices afore named, he was with the Prince at the battaill of Iernake, where there was [Page] a greate fight, and a hotte encounter, long in ballaunce, hangyng betweene hope and doubte: But to conclude, as the Frenche writers, and trothe dooeth testifie. The Kyng had the vpper hande, and the Prince of Conde was slaine, and his whole force driuen backe: In whiche fight and blouddie battaill thousandes were discomfited on bothe the sides. But the grace of good Fortune, and the glorie of that daie wente awaie with the Kyng, that longe had sought victorie, and founde but harde chaunce till that present howre. Some doe excuse the Princes misfortune, with an ouersight of those that were aboute hym. But in Gods blessed bosome, the bowels of those broiles and businesse, is shrined, and lyes faste locked from the lookes and iudgement of man.

Now I mynde to touche somewhat, the seruices that were by Sea, since we that are a liue, can remember the reporte of the same: and yet I maie not expresse at large any greate thyng thereof, because I would not be tedious to the reader: nor would not write more, then is, or maie bee well liked▪ For that I searche no bookes, nor robbe no one Aucthour of his studie and laboure: I runne but to my owne vewe and reache of reason, or followe the true report of those that I knewe, will not fable with the worlde, in matter of trothe and credite.

In the raigne of that moste redoubted, and perelesse Prince Kyng Henry the eight (whose famous actes can not bee to muche spoken of). There was a noble and terrible fight on the Sea, betweene the Frenche Galleis (whiche were nineteene in nomber, and twoo Foistes) and our shippes, whiche were not many.

The Kyng hauyng sente to Laundersey sir Ihon Walloppe, and a sufficient power to annoye that Toune, and for other greate causes then mouyng his Maiestie: prepared anone after a small Nauie, to moleste his enemies, makyng Admirall of that fleete, the noble Lorde Lyle, after Duke of Northumberlande, and with hym was sent the Lorde Clinton, [Page] now Erle of Lincolne, sir George Caro, sir Peter Caro, sir Gawine Caro, sir Robert Stafforde, maister Clement Parstons, maister Willyam Winter now knight, maister Biston a valliant Capitaine, with whom was maister Biston the Pensioner that now is a liue. And all these gentlemen vnder the leadyng of the Lorde Lyle: encountred the Galleis in moste braueste, and warrlike sorte vppon the Seas, and fought with them halfe a daie, daungerously and in greate perill, our Shippes hauyng a greate disaduauntage, because the porte holes were not so lowe, as reason required: by whiche meane our Shippes might not come, to dooe the harme that was intended. Notwithstandyng the greate Ordinaunce plaied on the enemie all the while, and our gentlemen behaued them selues as noblie, as might bee deuised: not in no little hazard, nor without greate courage. For this fight was so sore and daungerous, that euery mannes vallue and stoutnesse might be seen. There was no hole nor caue for the cowarde, to hide his hedde in: For the Cannon could fetche theim vp, that would creepe in the Cooke roume, and sette them a woorke, that would sitte doune and doe little good. The barres and chaines of Iron flewe about so thicke, and the smoke and smother of the pouder was so greate, that one might scarce see an other for fume, flame, and the furie of the shotte. And to bee plaine, because I haue seen the like, I take it to bee the moste terrible, and cruell fight that can bee named, or expressed with penne. For it is rather (if it bee rightly painted out) a helle, then any other thyng it can bee compared vnto. But how so euer it is, or was, at that present tyme our fleete abode the brunte thereof, and tried it out to the vttermoste, as the Frenche theim selues, did afterward reporte and affirme. And so bothe the sides beeyng wearied with roaryng of Cannons, and murtheryng of menne, were driuen at the length to leaue of, and saile seuerall waies: but the Frēche had the worste, and were glad to departe, to their losse and mischeef,

[Page]But in the necke of this, the Frenche Nauie came gallauntly to Portchmouthe, and in the vewe of Kyng Henry, thei made a stoute showe, and signe of some shrewde intent. Againste the whiche Nauie went out sir George Caro, in a noble vessell, and with a greate nomber of valliaunt gentlemenne: but by mischaunce, and ouersight of some reachlesse persones, the Shippe and all was caste awaie and drouned, full before the vewe and face of Kyng Henry the eight. And yet our other Shippes made out, and sette so lustely vppon the Frenche fleete, that thei made them retourne homeward to their small contentatiō: so that little or nothyng was doen worthie the notyng, a good tyme after.

An other seruice there was, where maister Clementte Parston, and Capitaine Wolffe was, in Kyng Edwardes daies, where thei had a Galley in chace, and ouercame the same Galley: For maister Parston brought it awaie, and had in signe of that victorie a Iewell thereof, made in maner like a Snake of golde.

In Queene Maries raigne, the Lorde Admirall that now is, with sir Willyam Woodhouse, sir Thomas Cotton, sir Willyam Winter, maister Gonstone, maister Holstocke, maister Morley, Sir Richard Brooke, Capitaine Poole a knight of the Rodes, as sir Richard Brooke was, sir Richard Winkfeeld, sir Robert Conestable that now is, Maister Willyam Gorge, and Maister George Biston, bothe Pentioners, went to the burnyng of Conkquette, and did there a greate exploite, and made muche spoile and hauocke in that countrey, and retiryng to our Shippes, tooke good order for the saffetie of our menne. But the Almaines beyng greedie of gaine, and ouercome with wine, could not bee brought a Shipboarde in no due season: and so through their owne follie and lewde behauioure, thei were entrapped and ouerthrowne: and yet was there as greate regarde for their preseruation as might bee, but their reatchlesse maner was suche, that no deuise could recouer them, and so thei perished. [Page] When our people did prospere, and came awaie with honour and commoditie.

From Concquet there was appoincted seuen Sailes of Shippes, to goe to my Lorde of Sussex, then Lorde Deputie of Irelande: The names of whiche Shippes followeth, the Hue Willoughbie, in whiche was sir Thomas Cotton, Admirall for that seruice. The Gearfaucon, in whiche was maister Tornar of the Garde. The Newbarke, where was Southerwicke of Douer. The Saker, at the commaundement of M. Peter Killegrey. The Barcke Caree, vnder the charge of M. Gregorie Carie. The Ihon of Plimmouthe, in the whiche was maister Richard Bingham: And all these attended my Lorde of Sussex at Daukkith, who noblie sett forwarde and bornte Kynteer (Iames Mackono beeyng in the countrey) and raized twoo of Mackonoes cheef Castles, tooke diuers of thei Galleis, and executed many of their mē.

My Lorde also burnt the Ile of Butte, the Ile of Combra, and the Ile of Amilashe, with diuers other places in that iourney.

And at this seruice was sir Willyam Fitz Willyams, maister George Delues, Capitaine Colliar, maister Thomas Masterson, Capitaine Warren, Capitaine Peers, sir George Stanley, maister Edward Stāley, who was there made knight. And a nomber of other lustie gentlemen, that presently I make no mention of.

Sir Willyam Winter did a greate peece of seruice, (with other Englishe gentlemen and Soldiours) at a place called Alderneye. For the Frenche to the nomber of mene hundred had taken that Ilande, and were in the Castell in a marueilous triumphe: But sir Willyam Winter hauyng but fower hundreth soldiours and Marriners (whiche Marriners who so markes, shall see greate worthinesse in) landed in Alderneye with his small companie, and handeled the Frenche so hardly, that he draue them into the Castell: and would not leaue theim, till he had dispatched the Ilande of [Page] theim. And so in his countreys honour, retourned into Englande againe.

There was an other peece of seruice by Sea, when Mounsire Determes loste a battaill by Grauelin, and as I dooe remember, maister Nicholas Gorge was at this seruice. But be there who might, it happened well on Mounsire Degmondes side: that the shotte of our Shippes had any meane to annoy his enemies. For euen as at Mosseborough feelde, our Galleye did greate seruice (that flancked a long the Scottes Campe, and slue many stoute menne). So our shippes at this battaill, made suche waie emong the French that the Borgonions gatte good passege by that bargaine, and went awaie with victorie.

In the raigne of our Soueraigne Ladie Queene Elizabeth, there was sente the Hope, the Lyon, the Harte, the Swallowe, and the Phenix (verie goodly Shippes to newe Hauen, sir Willyam Woodhous beyng Admirall, who fallyng sicke at Deepe, wente home againe with maister Holstocke: And then remained maister George Biston Admirall, hauyng but three saile in his cōpanie. But he proceaded onward, and houered vp and doune the coast a certain space, till at length commyng before the Castell of Cane. Mongomrie hauyng espied the Shippes, that Capitaine Biston brought before the Toune of Cane (whiche was besieged by the enemies of Count Mongomries) beganne to prepare hym self and all his people, to goe a Shippe boarde, and so came from Cane, and passed to Newe Hauen by Capitaine Bistons meanes, giuyng hym greate thankes, for his commyng to Cane, and for seruyng the Counties tourne in that extremitie.

The Counte had brought with hym from Cane twelue hundred soldiours, and other thynges necessarie for his furniture. And Capitaine Biston departyng from hym, made saile into Englande, and receiued sir Adriane Poinynges, and maister Cutbart Vaughan, with twoo thousande Soldiours, [Page] and there on sailed backe againe to Newe Hauen, and landed them there at their owne willes and pleasure.

After the siege of Newe Hauen, the Count Mongomrie gathered a greate Nauie, and wente out of Englande, in hope to succour Rotchell that was strongly besieged: and enteryng in at the hauens mouthe of Rotchell, a Cannon shotte passed through the Shippe the Count was in hym self. So vpon that, or other causes vnknowne to many in his companie, he retourned, and lefte Rotchell in greate daunger. Whiche toune notwithstandyng, againste all hope, or expectation of manne, kepte it self in suretie, and did suche wonderfull thynges duryng the siege thereof, as to this daie and to the worldes ende, is, and wil be spoken of. For emong all the sieges that euer wee haue heard of, there is not one comparable to the siege of Rotchell. Albeeit Haddyngton, Harlam, and Malta, are monumentes and patrons to shew that manhoode maie woorke maruailes, and constancie ioyned with courage, is not easely conquered. As Rotchell, and these places before mention of doeth witnesse, and shall whiles we are men be daiely remembred.

In that season whiles the Count Mongomrie was aboute to succoure Rotchell: Bell Ilande was assaulted, and verie valliaunly wonne with a fewe menne, one of sir Willyam Winters brethren, beeyng the cheef leader to that seruice. In whiche seruice was many a hotte skirmishe, and many more matters worthie memorie putte in practise, wherein manhoode, and diligence of manne was throughlie tried: And the Englishe nation did shewe their accustomed courage in, in suche maner and sort that the Frenche, which thought to keepe Bell Ilande, were forced to leaue it, and seeke their beste waie to conueigh theim selues from daunger: albeeit thei defended the saied Ilande as long as thei might.

Now hauyng further causes to treate of, and meanyng no more to wearie the readers with many wordes or warre [Page] either of Sea seruice, or Landes bloodie broiles. I mynde to expresse and set forthe at large, how Soldiours were made of, and honoured in tymes paste: and what prerogatiue thei had aboue other people. And to declare how Princes helde them in admiration, and gaue theim liberties, titles, and dignities: farre beyonde the reste of any, that liued vnder their lawes and obedience. And this by the waie is to be thought, that all my former discourse and rehearsall of warres, attended to no other purpose and effecte: but for the aduauncement of Soldiours, and to be as it were a foile to sette forthe the matter, I presently mynde to publishe out. For now I will in a maner shewe, how Gentilitie beganne, and where and in what sorte honour was first gotten and maintained, whiche argumente as I hope, shall not onely contente the wise and wel learned, but also please euery degree, and make the simple sorte plucke vp their courages, and imitate (by some honest exercises) the liues of noble Soldiours.

I truste I neede not in this readie and ripe age (wherein good writers, greate learnyng, and studious iudgementes doeth florishe) rehearse by particulars euery parcell and poincte, that belongeth to a Soldiours profession. Nor that you looke I should recite when, and where the Romaines, Lacedemonians, Athenians, and other nations did preferre and extoll menne of Marshall myndes, and noble courages. For their bookes and Commentaries, and the innumerable Libraries of greate antiquitie, are the verie recordes of my discourse, and remaine as mirrours for you to looke in. And shall proue a thousande partes more in the comendation of Soldiours, then either my penne or tongue (by sufficiente cūnyng) hath power to expresse. For it can not be, that from a little gutte or Channell of water, you should looke for so greate a flood, as from a multitude of springes, frō whence mightie Riuers takes originall and recourse

And so I sende you to the Welspryng of [...]edge (I meane the auncient Fathers woorkes) to fetche true intelligence, [Page] of the thynges I make mention of, touchyng the worthie reputation of a good Soldiour, and the antiquitie of his credite, triumphe and glorie.

Firste, looke in the sacred Scriptures, and searche from the death of Abell, commyng doune orderly to the birthe of Christe: And see whether Souldiours were made of or no. And doubtlesse you shall finde thei were not onely embraced and maintained, but like wise thei are of a long continuance and credite. As al the Bible before Ihon the Baptistes time declareth. And Christe hym self in a sorte did vtter, when he saied, he had not founde suche faithe in Israell, as he sawe in a Senturion. Yea, and in the Apostles Actes, there is a speciall poinct to bee noted: Deuoute Soldiours were sente to Symon Tanners house to finde out Peter. Well, now I commit you to the Scripture, and I will followe prophane histories: and beginne at the verie Infidelles (a scorne for a Christian to bee taught by) whiche are no small nomber, nor of no little continuaunce, people alwaies brought vp in war, and Princes of greate fame, power, and aucthoritie. Yea, conquerours of the whole worlde, and kynges to whom all people did stoupe and doe homage.

These Paganes, or as we maie tearme them loste shepe to whom the greate Shepherd would not bee knowne, (and yet emong theim tormented and crucified) did make suche lawes and orders for Soldiours, as the Turke to this daie obserueth, and holdeth in greate reuerence. Regard but the liberties and aucthoritie of the Ienessaries: and that shall manifestlie proue, that menne of warre are had in greate admiration. But because you shall haue the more beleef to the matter: read the life of Alexander the Greate: The Commentaries of Iulius Caesar, and the noble actes and victories of a nomber of other notable Princes. And then assuredlie you shalbe perswaded, that the renowme of Soldiours hath reached, and spread as farre as fame can flie, or good reporte could haue passage.

[Page]I praie you can any manne deny, but it springeth of a greate courage, and zeale to the Common wealthe: when a man forsaketh the pleasure of life, to followe the painfulnesse of warre, and daunger of death: and refuseth no toile nor trauaill, to purchase credite, and attaine vnto knowledge. Yea, some suche wee reade of, as Marcus Cursius and Musius Sceuola, that refused no enterprises, to doe their Countrey pleasure. Yea, some haue solde their patrimonie, and consumed their Threasure and riches, to enriche their Princes with glorie, and euerlastyng renowme.

Were not this a madnesse, and more then a meere folly, to be a drudge to the worlde, and a labourer for those that sittes at reste, and to watche and warde. Feight, striue, and struggle with strangers for victorie: and then to come home and be rewarded as common persones, and walke like a shadowe in the Sunne, without estimation or countenaunce. Would any that had wisedome, vallue, and courage, be ouer ronne with vicious fooles and cowardes: or be made a footestoole to ther inferiour, when thei haue climed vp the steppes of honoure, and are gotten into the toppe gallaunte of worldlie glorie, and warlicke triumphe.

Emong children that doe but plaie at the bucklars, there is a preheminence, and one will acknowedge the other to be his better, when good bobbes are bestowed: and sodainlie a stoute taule lobber will laye doune the waster, and yeelde to hym that hath more practise, and skill in the weapon then hym self. Then shall not a man that hath coped with Champions, buckled with Conquerers, and abidden the hazard of the Cannon, stande on his Pantoffelles, and loke to the steppes he hath passed. Yes sure, and suche a mēber of the state, (the baser sorte are Ciphers) ought to be made of, deserueth place and preheminence, and is no companion for punies▪ nor meete to bee matched with Milkesoppes, whose manhoode and maners differs, as farre from the graue Soldiour, as a Donkite in courage and condition, differs from a Ierfaucō.

[Page]As the duetie to a mannes countrey, and the wages that he taketh, bindes him to doe the vttermoste he maie: so were there not an other cause, that forceth further matter. Full coldly some would feight, and full slowly some would march to the battaill, albeit the Princes quarrell and wages receiued, commaundeth muche, and is a thyng stoutly and wisely to be looked to. But I tell you, fame and reputation is the marke that men shoote at, and the greedinesse of glorie and ambitiō, pricketh the mynde so fast forward, that neither the man lookes vppon the multitude of enemies: Nor regardes the daunger of death, so he maie bee eternised, and liue in the good opinion of the Prince and people.

For he that but bluntly lookes aboute hym, and goeth to the warre for wealth (whiche hardly is there gotten) is lead on with a coueteous desire of that he shall not haue, and may feight like an Oxe, and dye like an Asse. But who so respecteth his credite, and paiseth in ballaunce the worthinesse of fame, that riseth by well doyng: doeth combate like a Lyon, and either conquers like a man, or dieth like a conquerour, as many greate Kynges and Capitaines haue doen, whose ensamples a long while agoe, as yet remaines freashelie in memorie.

It maie not be thought that euery mercionarie mnane, and common hirelyng (taken vp for awhile, or seruyng a small season) is a Soldiour fitte to bee regestered, or honoured emong the renowmed sort of warlike people. For suche nombers of besoingnes, or necessarie instrumentes for the tyme, are to fall to their occupation when the seruice is ended, and not to liue idellie, or looke for embrasyng. For neither thei tarrie long in the feelde, when thei are preste to goe forthe. Nor are not often called againe to the like iourney, so greate is our store of suche persones: and so many shiftes thei can make, to putte of any paine and hazard. But he is to be accounted the couragious Soldiour, that is giuen by his owne disposition, to delight and folowe the Cannon wheele, [Page] whose countenaunce and chearfull face, beginnes to smile and reioyce when the Dromme soundeth, and whose harte is so high, it will not stoupe to no seruile slauerie. But hath a bodie and mynde able to aunswere that is looked for, and hath often been tried and experimented in Marshal affaires: through hauntyng whereof he is become ignoraunt of drudgyng at home, and made a skilfull scholler in the discipline of warre: whiche is not learned without some losse of blood, charges of purse, and consumyng of tyme.

And this maie bee iudged, and plainly presupposed, that many of that sorte of men are not founde a liue, to trouble or burthen a common wealth, because thei are cutte of through daungerous seruices, or forced by seekyng of Fame in the feeld, to sell that thei haue at home, and so to trauaile abrode, subiecte to all miserie, and farre from any freendship or prosperous estate. And sometymes through the greatnesse of their myndes, that galloppes after glorie, are carried awaie to seeke out newe kyngdomes, and refuse their old abitatiō. A matter fallyng out well, worthie to bee liked, but other wise, a heauie tale to bee tolde, and an experience bought with ouermuche repentaunce. But euery waie occasions thei are, that dispatcheth many a good Soldioure, and makes the nomber so little, that it is reason suche as are lefte a liue of that profession: should either bee rewarded, or at the least reape some suche credite, as the common sort of people should haue theim, in admiration for, and offer theim suche courtesie, as the worthinesse of their experience and seruice requireth.

If in the olde tyme our forefathers vsed their menne of warre noblie, prefarred theim to promotions, and dealte honourably with theim that serued their countrey, when warres were not so cruell. Why should not this worlde, wherein pollicies, murthers, and bloodshed is followed (and hazardes are maruelously escaped) to the vttermoste of mannes power, haue more regard to a soldiour that shunneth no hazard, [Page] nor refuseth no perill. There is no more to saie, for the aunsweryng of this greate ouersight, but the Hackney horse is vnhappie, hauyng borne a burthen al the daie on his back, and is caste of at night to a bare common, there to seeke for foode, and abide a harde Fortune.

There is a worse matter then this to bee treated of, yet nothing but that so farre past remedie to bee touched: let any one seruyng man gett a good maister, and for followyng his heeles at an ynche, he shalbe more spoken for and gett more benefite, then twentie of the beste Soldiours that you can name, that haue followed the warres all their life daies, and knewe not how to flatter and faune, or crouche and coursie for commoditie. Yea, suche as serues at home, and can not goe out of the vewe of a faire house, and Smoke of a foule Chimney, snatcheth vp good tournes, and stealts awaie prefarmentes priuilie: when those that merites more consideration, ofte goes openly a beggyng, and findeth fewe emong thousandes that wisheth them well, or doeth them any good.

Some saie the cause of this harde happe to the one, and good Fortune to the other, is a certaine deadly discention, fallen betwene the Sworde and the Penne. By which mortall malice is bredde and nourished in bosome, suche a headstrong hatred and parciallitie, that the Penne is euer giuyng a dashe out of order, against the commendation of the sword, and the Sworde beyng disgraced, by a balde blotte of a scuruie Goose quill, lyes in a broken rustie scabberd, and so takes a Canker, whiche eates awaie the edge, and is in a maner loste for lacke of good lookyng to, and consideration of a painfull Cutlare.

And the Penne (as many people are perswaded) is like the Pensell of a Painter, alwaies readie to sette out sondrie colours, and sometime more apt to make a blurre, then giue a good shape and proportion to any inuention or deuise, that proceades of a plaine meanyng. And as all Penselles are as well occupied of a bonglyng Painter, as a cunnyng woorke [Page] manne. So the scriblyng Penne is euer woorkyng of some subteltie more for the benefite of the writer, then commonlie for the profite or pleasure of the reader: yea, and the Penne is waxt so fine, and can shewe suche a florishe, that a maister of Fence, though he plaied with a twoo hande Sworde, might bee put to a foule foile: where the Penne is in place, and is guided by a sleight hande, and a shrewde hedde.

But vnder correction, if a man maie bee plaine, the Pen and the Sworde can neuer agree, because the Penne standes in suche feare of the Sworde, it would not come vnder the blowe of the blade: and the Sworde is in suche doubte to bee moiled with ynke, by the dashe of a Penne, that it loues not to come where the Penne maie annoye it. And so the dissention and quarrell betweene the Penne and the Sworde, is neuer like to bee taken vp: the harmes are so greate that growes on their amitie and meetyng, and the aduauntage of them bothe is so muche when thei bee kept a sonder.

For the sworde is beste and in his moste brauerie, when it is shinyng in the feelde, where blood maie bee shedde, and honour maie bee wonne. And the Penne is in cheefest pōpe, when it lyes lurkyng in the toune, where pence maie be purchased, and peace and quietnesse maie doe what it pleaseth. And the Penne is so glad to reste in the Pennar, till profite calles hym out, that he can not abide the hindrers of his commoditie, nor the disquieter of his ease. Whiche commeth by warres, and procedeth from the Sworde, when the Drom and the Trompet puttes the Penne out of credite.

Now to speake roundly to the reason, maie bee alledged in the Pennes behalfe (and praises of those haue the vse of the same) it can not bee denied, but the Penne maie bothe perswade warre, and purchace peace. And those that here at home maintaine good Lawes: see iustice ministered, vphold the publike state: Plead controuersies at the barre, studie to vnfolde doubtes. Labour at their booke to bee profitable mē bers, and striue daiely to excell in learnyng, and quiete the [Page] quarellous people of their countrey. Suche I saie that with Penor tonge, aduaunceth vertue, and ouerthrowes vice, are meete to bee honoured, deserueth greate lande, and ought to goe in the rancke and place of commendation and dignitie. For there is but fower sortes of true Nobilitie, or Gentlemenne. The firste is Gouernours, by whom all states and Kyngdomes are guided, brought to knowe order, and made possesse in quietnesse the gooddes that either good Fortune, or sweate of browes hath gotten.

The seconde are Soldiours, whose venter and valliance hath been greate, seruice and labour not little, and daiely defended with the hazarde of their liues, the libertie of their Countrey.

The thirde are vpright and learned Lawyers, that looketh more to the matter thei haue in hande, then the money thei receiue. And are neuer idell in dooyng their duetie, and studiyng for the quietnesse of matters in controuersie.

The fowerth are Marchauntes that sailes forrain countreys, and brynges home commodities: and after greate hazardes abroad, doe vtter their ware with regard of consciēce and profite to the publike estate.

And as from the beginnyng gouernours and rulers wer ordeined by God, and the reste of gentilitie came in, and did followe as reason required, and desarte did commaunde. So auncient birth and blood (ioyned with good conditions) is a thyng muche to bee honoured and esteemed, and beautifies not onely the noble race, but brynges likewise a treable beatitude, to the persone so verteouslie bent and noblie borne.

And as for the soldiours and their originall, of honours, titles, and callyng, the Romains (whiche were the Fathers of all Marshall affaires, and conquerours of the worlde, haue so muche spoken of and praised, that no manne can deny, but thei are the men of greatest antiquitie, and people that princes firste prefarred, and gaue stipendes vnto. Yea, and the cheefest conquerours that euer were before our daies: had a [Page] greate glorie them selues to bee called Soldiours, and Noble Capitaines. For thei thought none so worthie as the soldiour, nor none so mete to compare them selues vnto, as the man that stoode on his honour, and would neither stoupe to no kinde of slauerie, nor yeelde to no villanous action.

But in verie deede, to speake of euery one in their order, there is none so muche to bee feared, loued, and honoured as the rulers and leaders of the common people.

For the peaceable Gouernoure, and suche as are experimented in worldlie pollicies, knowes how to make warre, and how to auoide troubles: and as thei are lothe to fall from reste and wealthe, to ruffelyng warre and wickednesse, that breedes bloodshed and want. So thei can breake the bandes of peace, and set menne out to the feelde, when causes commaundes them, and oportunitie doeth serue. But since that my purpose, is but to treate of Soldiours alone, (and that I lacke skill to set forthe the reste) I will retourne to my firste discourse and intent, and leaue the wise to cōsider, what good matter maie be saied in the thyng I leaue of.

The Soldioure, because his life is in Ballunce, and his death is at the dore, hath so many mischeeues to passe, and so fewe meanes to escape daunger: that he is compelled to bee honest, and be ready to make an accompt euery hower of the daie. For as the Cannon maie call hym before he be a ware, or the pollicie of the enemie maie cutte of his yeres: So is he assured that the potte, whiche goeth often to the water, commes home with a knocke, or at lengthe is passhed all in peeces. Through whiche accidentes or crosse chances, he is held so harde, and curbed so shorte (if any feare of God bee in his breast) that he hath no scope to runne at riot in: nor plaie the partes of a wanton, or prodigall soonne.

Albeeit some holde opinion, that Soldiours be giuen to spoile, and offered to insolente life, by a nomber of inconueniences: yet maie thei so well be occupied in warre, that thei maie bee occasion of greate good, and a greate hynderer of [Page] many harmes. For when houses are readie to be burnt, impotente persones, poore women and children readie to bee slaine: thei maie saue what the liste, and preserue an infinite nomber of thynges, that a man at home can doe no good in, nor none but the Soldiour in the feelde, hath power to comforte and succour. And for certaine I knowe Soldiours of that disposition, that hath been occupied in these honeste actions: when some helhoundes haue been spoilyng and murtheryng, and founde by their follie and ouer greate crueltie, a dispatche of their owne daies, and peraduenture the terrible wrathe of God, and damnation to their soules.

My Prince maie bee well serued, and the enemie not alwaies to the vttermoste persecuted: the lesson that Saincte Ihon Baptist gaue the soldiours, maie suffice for this matter, and carrie mennes myndes from violence, and doyng wrong, to quallifie furie, and maintaine right, with a regard to the innocent, that ought not to bee touched, for the offence of an ambicious leader, or one whose faultes the ignoraunte maie not aunswere. This poincte though simplie it is passed ouer, maie containe a large volume: and is to be looked into with a deuine spectacle, and a Christian consideration.

Then if the souldiours (as fewe there are in nomber) bee honest, and is to be proued, thei are not to bee reproued: it followes that honour and reputation accompanies those soldiours, and that a singulare priuiledge and libertie, maie bee had for those that haue suche regarde of their Fame, that thei will doe no any one thyng preiudiciall to their credite, in the compasse of whiche regarde is knitte, valliaunce, modestie, pittie, and hope of an other life to come: when the affaires of this worlde shall duetifully, and honestly bee finished.

And for that the reader hereof shall not thynke, but that greate Princes thought their Soldiours to bee honeste, and men that were worthie the makyng of (whose doynges and regard did argue, and shewe a speciall hope of an other place to goe to, or a certaine fame and eredite here to bee mainteined) [Page] I will shewe you as I haue gathered by translation, how triumphant kinges and princely potentates, did ordain sette doune, and deliuer a lawe and rule for Soldiours. By the whiche thei had honour, libertie, and prerogatiue aboue, and beyonde the Commoners, or common course of people. The translation I speake of is not so long and tedious, but bryngyng willyng myndes to heare and knowe the truthe, you maie reade, if laisure permitte, and you peruse that followeth.

Firste you muste marke (and make a good note of) that Heraldes were at the beginnyng Soldiours, and were called aunciente Knightes, as well it seemeth to bee true: For thei (I meane Harraldes) beyng brought vp in warre, behelde who deserued renowme, and had by their aucthoritie and experience, a power to giue Armes and signe of honour to those, whiche for well doyng in feelde or publike state, did merite remembraunce, whiche power and place of the Harralde doeth plainly expresse: that from the feelde, or honourable offices at home, sprong vp our gentillitie, and generation of gentilmen. For as euery mannes bloud in a bason lookes of one colour: and whē Adam was created, and a long while after, men were all a like. So vertuous actes that shines to the heauens, hath made them to be honoured and aduaunced, where vicious liuers, and bloudthirstie wretches were accursed of God, and hated of man. And had a marke sette vppon theim to bee knowen by, and bee a testimonie to the worlde, that thei were not worthie of honour, and were appointed to reproche. Let Caine that killed his brother Abell (by an vniuste warre) bee a witnesse in this behalfe.

Eneas Siluius doeth deriue Heraldes of ab Heroibus, of noble men: For Heroes were aunciente Knightes, otherwise called Soldiours, and an Herauld signifieth Centonicum vocabulum (videlicet) and olde manne of Armes, or an olde [Page] knight, but at this daie (said Eneas a long while since) certaine seruile menne, feeble and weake messengers, whiche neuer haue plaied the soldiours, dooe professe that office. The priuileges and offices of the Herauldes in auncient tyme, to this daie continuyng neuerthelesse. And the first aucthour of theim was Bacchus, whiche India beeyng conquered, did call thē by this name: I absolue you of warres and trauaill, and will that you be auncient soldiours, and to bee called Heroes. Your office shalbee to prouide for the Commonweale, to trie out the originall of causes, and to praise the wise: you shall cal for greate rewardes, in what place or countrey you shall come. And the kynges shal giue you meate and apparell. You shalbe most honourable to all menne. Princes shall offer vnto you many thynges, and shall licence you their apparel. Credite shalbe giuē to your saiynges, you shall abhorre lyes. You shall iudge traitours and aduouterers: These infamous persones ye shall punishe: and in euery nation you shall haue libertie, and sure egresse and regresse shallbe vnto you, if any man shall gainsaie any of you in woorde or deede, let him dye with the sworde.

Alexander the Great hath annexed to these Priuileges of noble men, after a long season, that thei might vse Purple, golden and beautifull garmentes. And that thei should bryng in princely and notable Armes at euery place, [Page] in any countrey or Region soeuer it shalbe. If any man shall repulse these without respecte, or secretly defame in worde, he shalbe accounted giltie of death, and deposition of gooddes. And so the same Eneas doeth saie, Thucidides, Herodotus, Didimses, Magashones, & Zencphon together.

Thirdly, then Octauian Auguste, the Romain Monarche beyng established, hath beautified them on this condition: Who so euer (saied he) hath plaied the Soldiour with vs, the space of tenne yeres, and be of the age of fourtie yeres, whether he bee horseman, or els footeman, he shall haue his wages, and afterwardes bee absent from warres, bee a noble man and old Soldiours. No man shall forbidde thee the Citie, the Markette, the Churche, Hospitalitie and house: no man shall impute any faulte to thee, thou shalte bee discharged of that blemishe or burthen: no man shal aske any thing of thee, if thou make fault in any thyng, onely looke thou for Caesars vengeance: for what filthinesse men shall impute. Let them feare thee beyng a iudge and corrector. Whether thei be priuate, or Princes: what soeuer thou saiest, thou shalte affirme, and no man contrary. All iourneis and places shalbee free and plaine to thee: let thy meate and drinke be in the houses of Princes▪ and take daiely of the Common treasure, wherwithall to keepe thee and thine house. Marrie thou a wife of comely beautie, and esteeme her aboue all other. Whom thou [Page] wilte checke and reproche with infamie: thou shalt saie this man is an infamous reprobate. Armes, Ensignes, names and ornamentes of noble men beare thou. Doe what thynges become kynges, and what thou wouldest doe or saie in euery place and Nation, make mention of it: if there be any iniurious persone, let hym dye.

And laste of all Charles the Greate, the name of the Empire beeyng translated to the Germains, after the conquest of the Saxons and Lombardes. Caesar called Augustus, hath rewarded them with this honour, saiyng: My Knightes, you noble men, fellowes of kynges and Iudges of faultes, liue after your labour, without trauaill, prouide for kynges in a cō mon name. Take awaie vice. Fauour women. Helpe Children. Keepe councell of the Prince, and of hym aske your apparell, and stipende: and if any deny, let hym be accounted presumptuous and slaunderous. If any shall doe you iniurie, let hym acknowledge hymself giltie of empairing the Empire. But take you heede least you defile suche worship, and suche priuiledge, gotten by iuste trauaill of warre, either by dronkennesse, baudrie, or any other vice: neither that we giue vnto you, should redounde vnto praise, or peace, whiche is to bee taken of you. If perhaps you shall exceede vs, and our successours Kynges of the Romains for euer hereafter.

[Page]These before rehearsed woorde for woorde, as I might I translated out of Latine, findyng therein a marueilous commendation of Soldiours, and so is thereby to be perceiued, that in all ages, tymes, and publique gouernementes, Kynges and mightie Monarkes, tooke care as muche for their men of warre, as for their commonweale: and to bring thē in harte if any dispaire or mislike, should growe through flacknesse of lookyng vnto. The Princes of their princelie benyngnitie, and mere good will borne to Marshall people, inuested them with titles, names, and honoures, suche as alwaies pluckes vp mannes courage, and procures thousandes to valliauncie and seruice. For who will not venter boldly a season, when thei knowe for ten yeres toile and hazard, he shalbee honoured, sitte at ease, liue without daunger, and remaine in a perpetuall priuiledge: neither subiecte to the mallice of leaude people, nor worldlie wante, whose plague persecuteth many millions of menne, and throwes doune in the duste the praises of suche, as otherwise should shine like the Sunne, before the eyes of all nations.

And as those Kynges and Conquerours many hundred yeres agoe, ordained by decree and vertue of a Lawe, that Soldiours should bee made honourable, and possesse greate contentation of mynde▪ So fell it out from tyme to tyme, their seruices were considered. And that Soldiour like kyng and triumphant conquerour Kyng Henry the eight, hauyng triall of Soldiours and a warlike harte: to shewe the honour belongyng to that profession, and to followe his noble predecessours. Made a Lawe as ye maie read in the Statutes, that Soldiours might weare what thei listed: And further to the comforte of all menne of warre, he left no one worthie soldiour vnrewarded, in what place so euer of his dominion, or affaires the Soldiour had been emploied.

In Fraunce, our neere neighbours makes so greate accounte of Soldiours (namely those that thei call Soldado Vetche) that the greatest Dukes or Princes in the feelde, [Page] Courte or Toune, encounteryng a Soldiour, salutes hym with courtesie, takes hym to his Table, and vseth hym with suche entertainement and reuerence, that it is a worlde to beholde: And when seruice is to bee seen, either in battaill, or at an assaulte. The greatest Duke or noble man, thinkes hym self happie to bee ioyned with a knowne Soldiour: and commonlie bothe old and yong of their nobilitie, are foremoste in the fighte, and laste that will retire. It is a thyng incredible emong some ignoraunt persones, to be tolde how Soldiourlike, and manlike in all poinctes thei behaue themselues, and how little accompte thei make of life: when death muste bee sought by seruice, and thereby their honoure and libertie of Countrey, is to be preferred.

The Spanyardes, a Nation not inferiour to any yet named, ioyne so in amitie at their meetyng, make suche courtesie, and shewe suche fastenesse of freendshippe (especiallie emong soldiours) that euery one in presence embraseth his companion, and in absence, lettes fall good report of the absent. Yea, their loue and constancie by custome and ceremonies, knittes theim in suche an vnion, that no straunger can separate: and thei giue so greate place on to an other, that it is hard to knowe by their gestures and vsages, whiche is the better of them. And thei haue their owne soldiours in suche a likyng, that no people in the worlde, shalbe suffered to reape any peece of their glorie.

The Italians Soldiours of greate antiquitie, and of no lesse vallue with moste humilitie and Ciuill maner, enterchaungeth their talke: yeeldyng for one gentle worde, twentie good tearmes, smothe speeches, and philed phrases. And happenyng to come together, either in seruice, or otherwise: thei agree like brethren, and departe without quarrell. And their greate menne and mightiest in power, if thei repaire where Soldiours are, shewes theim selues of little aucthoritie, as a manne might gesse by their courtesie: Refuseth to take any thyng vpon theim, where the Marshall man approcheth, [Page] and seemeth to bee at the disposition of suche as haue serued, so great is the reputation of a soldiour emong them.

The Scottes menne, a stoute and manly people, beginnyng to take a sauour in the warre, seekes sondrie soiles to serue in: and haue greate delite to bee in the companie of soldiours, and proue them selues worthie of commendation, in any place thei repaire. And for that thei would become famous, and attain to some experience and credite, thei shunne no kinde of seruice that is offered: and all the sortes of gentilitie emong them, esteemeth muche a Soldiour. Whiche is a signe that at the length, soldiours wil come to their auncient dignitie and admiration, where the sound of Dromme or Trompet maie bee heard.

Now to speake of our owne Nation were superfluous, (although many haue serued well, and sondrie are yet in the excersices of warre) beeause I haue named before diuerse thynges, wherein our countrey menne haue wonne desired fame and renoume, yet for argumentes sake, and to enlarge this volume. Further matter maie bee treated of, neither hurtfull to the hearers, that fauoureth well doyng: nor hatefull to any when nothyng shalbee touched, but that whiche is necessarie for the aduauncement of vertue.

Our soueraigne Ladie by Gods prouidence (to make vp the matter) I bryng for a testimonie of greate regard to soldiours, consideryng whom thei are she hath holpen, in some sort and respecte, and what good thinges haue passed emong suche Soldiours, as her highnesse heard well of, or had intelligence giuen her to vnderstande, the worthinesse of those that had well deserued. Dooe but examine how many since her noble raigne, of Soldiours haue had Leases, gotten liuynges, been preferred to gouernemente, and gone from Courte with full handes, that beganne with emptie purses. And then tell the worlde openly, what secrete suites were passed, and what open wrong thei doe them, that bountifully bestowed good giftes, where any good cause appeared. Admitte [Page] some by the reporte of their freendes, stole awaie the benefites from the fountaine hedde: yet looke to the reste of thynges that worthely fell out, and you shall see the beste sort of Soldiours worthely rewarded, and noblie vsed. What care wee though some sillie soules, or seruiceable Soldiours watche at receipte, or are not spoken for by meane of some hinderars of good happe. Yet since other some, and many in nomber haue found good Fortune (saie what thei can) at her highnesse handes that now remaineth Queene ouer our Countrey, we can not but confesse that the candell is in, and not burnt so farre, but maie giue a gracious blase and a newe light, to lighten the myndes of Soldiours, and suche as sitte in the comfortlesse shadowe of darke dispaire.

So to make short and proue for the purpose, Soldiours in tymes paste haue been sette by, and dearely esteemed, and presently in all places of the worlde embrased and made of. From whom sprong Herroldes, the erectours and publishers of gentilmen, and all true fame and honour did rise: as for example, a Knght made in the feelde, especially for seruice sake, hath muche more to reioyce of, then he that at home is called to worship, excepte in causes of gouernment, and honourable offices, whiche are to bee prefarred before al other dignities and callyng. Cheefly for that our whole publike state and Princely order, dependes on their wisedoms without the whiche order, and Maiestie of rule, the Ciuill would become sauage, and the worlde would waxe wilde: so that the beastes in the feelde, and the people in the Toune, should sone for naughtie maners bee a like in condition.

Now here is to be noted, that Soldiours in old tyme of tenne yeres continuaunce, beyng fourtie yeres of age, was suffered to liue quiet, and bore the title of honour. Then reason will graunt, that who hath serued thirtie yeres, without reproch or shame (and in a dangerous worlde and mischeef) maie claime by right a pention of the Prince, and stipende of the common threasure. But what and if some of good birthe [Page] and hauior, haue been muche more then thirtie yeres a follower of the warres, and neuer out of warlike exercises al this long season. And yet are as newe to begin the worlde again, as thei were the first daie thei came from their Cradell. For any prefarment, fauour of the Prince, or countenaunce and commoditie of their countrey. Suche Soldiours maie saie, thei were borne in an vnhappie season, or founde but colde freendes in tyme of regard, and triall of good Fortune.

The affection of this worlde is ledde with suche likyng, (and the cunning of the wilie can so finely currie fauour) that he that neuer came nere the daunger of the Cannon, with lokyng bigge, and tournyng vp his mouchachose, makes men beleeue he is a Deuill, who fearyng the monster will dooe some mischeef. And carried awaie by affection (for the goodly shewe this kill Cowe hath made) speake for hym where goodnesse is to bee gotten, and so a swadde or a swirnpipe is called a good Soldiour (and goes awaie with credite and liuyng) when he that wantes this cunnyng, and yet lackes no courage nor vallue liues vnrewarded, and consumes his daies in sorrowe.

Yet some holde opinion, it is but happe that helpes, and neither cunnyng nor desartes that compasseth good liuynges, and attaines vnto benefite. Full bare and poore is that argumente and reason, and menne of suche opinions are as blinde as a beetell: to beleeue he is happie that hath no worthinesse in hym, and he vnfortunate that lacketh no vertues. But the worlde is moste ignorant and muche to be blamed, that helpeth a shadowe to greate substaunce, and lettes the worthy shift for their liuing that deserueth reward. And thei are not to bee excused, that by a colour of happe, aduaunceth the victous persone, and fauours not the forward Soldiour, and menne of vertuous disposition. For golde and siluer are knowen by their weight and goodnesse: The flower by the smell: The horse by his pace, and euery other thyng is tried and made of for his vallue. And must the merites of men be [Page] subiect to happe, where men doe helpe men, and are the iudgers of mannes doynges: that cace is to cruell, and that hap is accursed gotten by suche blindnesse, and purchased by suche parcialitie.

In Rome where noble myndes were marueilouslie extolled, yet when diuers menne came to bee prefarred: euery Senator a part had so many followers, that one would hinder an other: And looke who the beste people fauoured, the worste sorte would hate. And looke who followed Pompey, was misliked of Iulius Caesar, and so by this faccious dealyng many greate Soldiours, Eloquente Orratours, and noble members of the Common weale, were putte of from poste to piller. And fewe that were worthie of cherishyng, founde good chaunce, or possessed any part of the happe, that thei iustly might claime: by whiche frowardnesse and miserie of the tyme, is plainly to bee proued, that there is no hap certaine. For manne hym self is the maker of happe, and the marrer thereof: euen as his luste is to like, or his harte is bente to lothe. For happe could dooe nothyng at all emong them, their affections were so farre a sonder, and thei haled suche seuerall waies, that their followers were lefte in the lashe, or failed of their footyng. Then speake not of happ, for God and good men are the distributars of desired Fortune, and the onely causers of that whiche betideth, and muste fall of necessitie on some mennes Shulders, as in the booke of Boetius de consolatione, is manifestly to bee tried.

Now leaue of hearyng of happe, and note how nobly the Romains vsed their Soldiours, namely those that at any tyme had succoured a Citizen of Rome: and taken hym out of the handes of his enemies. For suche Soldiours as had doen that seruice, was crouned with a garlande or hat, made of the leaues of Trees, as I finde written in Plinie the xvj. booke the fowerth Chapiter, the cheefest whereof that serueth for my purpose, I haue translated out of Frenche. Plinie bryngyng many greate aucthours to affirme his saiyng [Page] the matter followes.

The greatest honour that could be dooen to a Soldioure, was to Croune hym with a Croune called Ciuiques, and likewise of longe tyme this Croune Ciuiques was due vnto Emperours, in signe of clemencie. For since the ciuill warres had harmed the Rnmains, it was thought a singular good deede, to let a citezen liue in reste and peace. Likewise there was no Croune compared to that Croune: For those that were giuen to that Soldioure, that was firste at the breache, or firste on the walles, or rampars of the enemies, was not so honourable, no, although thei were of golde, and thereby were more riche. We haue seen saieth Plinie in our tyme, twoo greate triumphes for the Sea seruice, the one was of Marcus Varro, (the whiche Pompey did croune, for hauyng defeatted the Pirates, and makyng the Sea cleare of Theeues) the seconde was of Marcus Agrippa, whiche Caesar did likewise Croune, for hauyng defeatted the Siciliens, and purged the Sea in like sort of Brigandes and Robbers.

At the first foundation of Rome, Romulus did Croune Hostus Hostilius with a garland of leaues: because he was the first on the walles, at the takyng of Fidena. Now before a Burgoies should at any tyme enioye this Croune Ciuique, he must rescue a Romaine Citezein, and kill the enemie that led the citezen awaie prisoner. It must be likewise that the enemie did hold and [Page] possesse the place, that same daie that the Romaine Citezen was rescued in. It is necessarie that the manne whiche hath been succoured, should confesse the same before the people: For a Soldioures owne witnesse in that behalfe, serues to no purpose. And furthermore it is required, that he whiche was rescued, be knowen to be a Burgois of Rome. For if one dooe rescue a Kyng, that commeth to serue the Romains, he dooeth not merite for the same the Croune Ciuique. In like sort, if one doe rescue a generall of an armie, he gettes no more honor therefore, then though he had rescued a simple Citezen. For thei whiche established this ordinaunce had no regard, but to the conseruation of the Citezens of Rome, who so euer thei were. The Priuilege of this Croune shall be to giue power, to weare a Hatte of broad leaues, as ofte as he pleased that had been once Crouned for his well dooyng. Further all the Senate had a custome, to rise out of their places, and to doe honour to them that haue had this croune, when thei goe to see the common plaies and pastymes. And it is sufferable and permitted, that thei shall sitte in a seate neere the Senatours. And thei shalbe exempt from all Ciuill charges, not onely theim selues, but their naturall Fathers and Graundfathers: and now beholde touchyng their Priuileges, there was one Cicinius Dentatus, accordyng as wee haue saied, Crouned fowerteene tymes. [Page] And one Capitolinus had sixe tymes been Crouned, for he rescued Seruilius, then generall of the armie: not withstandyng Scipio Affrican would not suffer them to giue hym the croune Ciuique, for succouryng his Father in the iourney of Trebia. O ordinaunce worthie of immortalitie (saieth Plinie) that assigneth no other praise for suche greate workes, then this greate honor, whiche surpasseth all other warlike crounes.

This farre goes the verie woordes of Plinie, and many (other auncient aucthors that I could rehearse) in the commendation of menne of warre, whiche neither in Tholomeus tyme: Artaxerses daies: nor any of the mightie Monarkes long raignyng before, could bee forgotten, but were so honoured, that lawes and orders was onely deuised, for the enlargyng of their lande, and stirryng vp their noble myndes.

Yea, Soldiours and Herrauldes had power to denounce warres, in so muche as the aunciente Romains: who were the Fathers of all Marshall affaires, and conquerours of the worlde, helde this for a moste certaine rule.

Nullum bellum iustum esse nisi pro rebus iniuste ablatis & quod fecialis Romani antea denunciabant. Whiche rule and order of the Romains, for the power and honour of soldiours and Herrauldes: declareth thei are of greate dignitie and callyng, and maie compare by this their authoritie, to be no whit inferiour to the beste sorte of gentlemen.

You maie reade in like maner, that there was a manne emong the Romains, that merrelie, or paraduenture in contempte, putte a Croune Cinique vppon his owne hedde: and loking out at a greate windowe into the streate, was espied, And thervpon apprehended, and brought before the Senate: where he was iudged presently to bee putte to death, for touchyng and abusyng that Croune Ciuique. Whiche was ordained for the wearyng onely of an honourable Soldiour, [Page] and for suche a one as had been by deserte, Crouned with triumphe and solempnitie in open audience. So this foolishe manne (albeit he might meane but little harme) was had to the place of execution, and there loste his life, to the greate terrour of those that rashely meddle with thynges, that becomes theim not: and to the greate honour of those that are aduaunced by vertue, and winneth with courage, the wearyng of this Croune called the Croune Ciuique.

Nowe commyng doune to this presente age, in the tyme of our peace, where Soldioures haue nothyng to dooe, there is enough spoken (and peraduenture to muche) for the Soldiours commendation, yet let me leade you a little further in that cace. For now is to bee proued what degrees of Soldious (hauyng serued long, or borne any office of credite) are gentilmen, and maie vnrebukeable be bolde, to take that name and title vpō them. First you haue heard, that seruyng tenne yeres honestly and truely, he is not onely paste his prentishippe, but also aboue a iourney manne, and ought from all iourneis to bee spared. As a man might saie, (though vnproperly compared) a good free horse after his long labour, and many greate iourneies is to bee ridden but seldome, and kepte in the stable till extreme necessitie requireth: and then is to bee vsed gentillie, least his stiffe limmes and old bodie deceiue the riders expectation. So a soldiour commyng to this age and perfection, or beyng paste the iollitie of youth and youthfull actions: ought to be prouided for, and maie without presumption pleade for armes, albeeit he neuer gaue none before, and can bryng no greate proofe of his house, gentrie, or dissent, and though he be the first of that house, stocke, and name that gaue Armes: his beginnyng is allowed of all our aunciente writers and Princes, and shall put his aduersaries to silence, when in that poinct thei seeke to deface hym.

I remember once I sawe and heard an Italian (vceyng in the Emperour Charles the fifth his Campe) so stande on [Page] his reputation, that when a meane Gentleman quarrelled with hym, and desired the Combate, he aunswered he had been (Soldado Vetche) an old Soldiour, and had borne office, and passed through sondrie offices by order: and that the gentleman was but a yong man, and but of twoo yeres experiēce in warre, and farre vnmeete to make challenge with hym, that had passed so many steppes of honour, and places of credite. But saied the Italian to his aduersarie, goe and dooe that I haue dooen, or passe through the like, and when thou haste mounted vp, and troden on euery steppe that I haue passed: come to me and I will fight with thee the combate. But to saie I will stoupe so lowe, and base my self (as a Lorde maie in fightyng with a Ruffian) beyond the compasse of my callyng, I will not, nor no Lawe of Armes can commaunde me. The matter came in question before the Prince of Orrange that now is, and the Duke of Sauoye yet liuyng, and the challenger had a foule disgrace in the audience of a multitude: and the defendaunte had a rewarde of fiue hundreth Crounes allowed hym by the Emperour, for preseruyng his honour and estimation so muche. This was doen and openly seen, a little before the siege of Renttie, and standeth for a good recorde. Then an old Soldiour is a gentleman, bothe worthie to giue armes and collours, and mete to be borne withall in causes of quarrell.

An other proofe for the maintenaunce of my matter, I sawe at the siege of Leeth, a gentlemant of greate courage and birthe (called maister Ihon Soutch) quarrell with Capitaine Randall, then Maiour of the feelde. And maister Soutche did vrge through ill woordes and stoute language, Capitaine Randall verie farre: whiche might haue moued any man liuyng. But Capitaine Randall, in a maner vsed those woordes that the Italian had dooen, before expressed: and goyng further on in communication, commaunded the Soldiours to laye handes on maister Soutch, and swore he would execute hym, and learne all other by his boldnesse, to [Page] knowe their dueties. And when maister Soutch was staied, well ꝙ Capitaine Randall since thou haste challenged me, I will not vse my power and aucthoritie ouer thee: But by the faithe of a Soldiour, when I am out of the Sergeaunte Maiors roume I will meete thee, and make thy harte ake for those woordes thou haste giuen: excepte thou repente before of thy lewde demenour. Maister Soutche hauyng disgested, and wisely waighed this matter: beeyng talked with all of the Capitaines in the Campe, came like a gentteman on himself, and acknowledged his fault moste duetifully, and with greate repentaunce: for whiche submission of his, he was the better thoughe on after.

This shewes and declares, that an aunciente Soldiour and Officer hath a greate Priuilege, and maie not bee compared with, nor offered any iniurie: because he carries the admiration of the people, and the honour of the feelde.

Ye shall finde written in Spanishe, and the language of the Portugall (whiche Portugailes founde out the Easte Indians) that there was a mightie Kyng of Calicute, and many other Kynges in the Indians, whose Soldiours were all Gentlemen, and did liue euer on the stipende that the Kyng allowed theim. And those Soldiours had many Priuileges, and titles of honour, and stoode so muche on their reputation: that thei would not touche a housbande mannes handes, nor suffer a Rusticall fellowe to come into their houses. And the housbande men were bounde when the Soldiours goe in the streates, to crie with a loude voice, to make place for the Soldiours. For if those gentlemen did come, and bidde the common people goe out of the [Page] waie, and thei doe not obaye their commaundement therein: it was sufferable for the gentlemen Soldiours, to kill those obstinate and proude people. And furthermore, the Kyng could not make Gentlemen: if thei were not borne of some noble stocke, of the race of Soldiours. Thei could not take their weapons, nor enter into any Combate, before thei were armed Knightes. Thei must at the age of seuen yeres, bee putte to learne to plaie with all weapons, and to the ende thei should bee perfecte, their maisters doe hale their armes very farre out (thereby to stretch their limmes) and afterward thei teache theim suche fence, as is apte for that purpose. Thei did by an ordinaunce and custome of theirs, honour and salute their Maisters that had taught theim at the weapons, (whiche were Graduates and cunnyng menne) where soeuer thei met them in the streate. Thei were bounde twoo Monethes in the yere to plie their schole, and take a lesson at their Maisters handes. By whiche reason thei were verie skilfull of their weapons, and for that cause thei greatly esteemed theim selues. Thei could not bee Knighted, but by the Kynges owne handes, who asked thē before he laied his hande on their heddes: if thei could obserue and keepe the custome, and ordinance of gentlemen Soldiours, and thei saied, and aunswered the Kyng. Thei minded to take that profession of armes vpon [Page] them: and so the Kyng caused a sworde to bee girded about them, and after embraceth those gentlemen so Knighted, then thei did sweare to liue and dye with hym, and for hym, whiche othe thei well keepe and obserue. For if their Lorde were slaine in the warre: thei would feight to their laste breathe, and kill hym that had slaine their Kyng. Or if at that instaunte thei could not bryng their purpose to effecte, thei would watche and spie out a conuenient season, for the performaunce of their promesse and othe. And vndoubtedly some of thē would reuenge their Maisters death. Thei had a greate regard to their duetie and endeuoure. Thei thought nothyng so precious as fidelitie, and their Princes fauour. Thei cared not for life: so glorie might be gottē by their death. Thei serued moste faithfully vnder them, that gaue them entertainemente. Thei spared nothyng, but spente liberally. Thei applied their onely studies, for the mainteinaunce of their Kyng and Countrey. Thei would not suffer any dishonoure, nor offer any iniurie. Thei thought it a double death, to lose their good name. Thei made no accompt of their meate, money, sleape, or ease: and little esteemed their owne liues or persones, whē thei should make proofe and shewe of their manhoode. Their wages and stipende was so muche and so wel paied, that euery one of theim might liue gallantly: and the meanest might keepe to waite [Page] on hym, a man or a boye. The lawe was that thei might not Marrie, and yet had lemmans and women appoincted by order, whiche thei kept and vsed well, and all quarrelles was auoided by that meanes. For thei might not companie with their women, but at certaine seasons appointed. Thus thei past ouer their life tyme, without the care and trouble of wife and children. Thei might forsake vpō a good cause, any of their Lemmans. And their women might at their owne willes forsake the menne. All those that accompanied these Soldiours were gentlewomen, and of good birth, but might not be married to any persone after she had been at the Soldiours commaundemente. And because many men by their often chaungyng, happen to haue the cōpanie of one woman, thei fathered not any childe, though it were neuer so muche like thē: and therefore their brothers children, did alwaies enherite their landes and goodes. And this lawe that those gentlemen Soldiours should not marrie, was made by a king, that would not haue a man of warre, to fixe his loue on a wife and children, nor thereby to waxe feeble Spirited and effeminate. But the Kyng ordained, because these gentlemen, should haue no womā nishe manners nor myndes: that thei should haue all thynges at their willes, and liue in suche libertie, as no one thyng might drawe them from noble seruice, nor commaūde them [Page] to seruile drudgerie. And because thei should bee the more animated to liue in noble order, and encouraged to serue well: thei were Priuileged, that no man might emprison thē for any cause, nor thei might not bee put to death by any meane of ordinarie Iustice. Howbeeit whē one had killed an other, or did slepe with a Countrey woman, or did speake euill of the Kyng then raignyng. Then would the Kyng hauyng true and iust information of the matter, make a writyng, and sende the same to a hedde officer, commaundyng hym to cutte in peeces the offendour, where soeuer he was founde. And after he was dedde, there should bee hanged aboute hym the Kynges writyng, to shewe the people wherefore he suffered: but no Lawe nor iustice could touche hym, before the Kyng had iustly condempned hym.

So by this libertie and honour that Soldiours had, is well to be seen, that none but Caesar might meddle with men of warre. And it seemeth this libertie was fetched from Alexanders daies, who called his olde Soldiours noble men, and gaue them noble Priuileges and rewardes: to cause the worlde that did followe, to augmente their renowme, and spread their fame to the highest heauens, that haue been valliant on yearth, and noble of mynde. Whiche greate forsight of Alexander, and other greate Princes to aduaunce Soldiours: hath made menne more like Godses, then yearthly creatures, and dooen suche good to the worlde thereby, that there is no worlde, but will make of menne of warre, and giue place to the goodnesse of those, that striue by stoutnesse of harte, and labour of bodie, to enlarge the limites and boū des of his countrey.

[Page]The effecte of this aboue expressed, was drawen out of Spanishe, and remaines emong Christians, as a matter worthie notyng, though Infidelles did obserue them.

Now though a man haue had charge, and borne a nomber of offices: yet the name of an old Soldiour beautifies his title. But yet particularly I will goe through the offices, as breefly as I maie, and therein shewe who maie iustly be called gentlemen emong theim. A Collonell, a Capitaine, and Ensigne bearer. A Lieutenaunt, a Corporall, a Sergeante of the bande, and an olde Soldiour though he neuer bare any office, are all gentlemen, grantyng and allowyng that none of the Officers, were made for affection at home. But had their beginnyng by seruice in the feelde, and are knowen of good courage and conducte, and well experimented in Marshall affaires. The rest of other officers, that haue noble roumes and places in the Campe, needes no settyng out: for all menne knowe suche officers as are chosen, (and made by the moste noble in any gouernement) are not to be treated of, for that euery Soldiour giues them their due honour and place.

You maie not looke for at my handes, the originall and discourse of all gentlement, albeeit I goe as farre as I dare in that behalfe. For I loue not to meddle with thanklesse laboure, and would bee lothe to roue beyonde my reache and knowledge: in a matter that my betters, as yet haue not dealt withall. For a doubtfull attempte, brynges a daungerous construction: And with drawyng a strong Bowe, a weake arme waxeth wearie. He offereth hym self to the hazarde of many an euill tongue, that puttes any penne to the paper, in a talkatiue worlde: whiche shootes priuie boltes at euery open Marke, or plaine meanyng mynde. And commonlie those that leaste good can dooe (rather then beeidell) will woorke moste harme, with findyng of a faulte, and forgyng an offence, rather committed of ignoraunce, then penned of a sett purpose. When a companie of passengers commes to a foorde, when the water is frosen all ouer: if a bolde [Page] spirite to make the passage free, breake awaie the Ise, and so slippeth in the water, his fellowes will but mocke hym, and leaue hym ouer the shooes: and yet the issue muste bee broken, or passage is denied. It were therefore conueniente, that euery Iack scorner should make his owne waie, or whē he would feede, should cracke his owne Nutte. If suche as aduenture a daunger, bee daungerouslie dealte with, bidde thee blunte hedded babler learne more cunnyng, or fall in the hazarde. With lookyng on a booke that pleased me well, I haue lighted but a candell, and now if any haue a torche that can giue greater light, bryng it to the vewe, and I will honour it with verses. My blase is but a Bonfire to call out the neighbours: but suche as come with garlandes, shalbee welcomed with a thousande salutations, and bee called to the familie of Fame. Where all studious and painfull honest writers are regestered, and remaine with immortall remembraunce. So now beyng finished my opinion, and woorke of the matters of warre, (sauyng a matter meete the notyng for Irishe affaires and gouernemente, and Flaunders trouble) there followes a sillie treatise of Callamitie, whiche shortly seemes to proue that affliction makes men happie, and prosperitie neither brynges forthe any good fruit, nor is a readie meane to shewe a sounde tree, or a man voide of corruption. Thus gentle reader I adresse thee to my further labours, and readyng of my discourses.

Finis.

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And abstracte of the aucthoritie, and entertainemente, that was giuen and committed by the honourable sir Henry Sidney Knight, Lorde Deputie of Irelande: to sir Humfrey Gilbert knight, duryng the tyme of his continuaunce and seruice in Munster, in Irelande. Written to showe how that seuere and straight handely of rebellious people, reformes them sooner to obedience, then any courteous dealyng: because the stiffe necked must be made to stoupe, with extremitie of Iustice, and stoute behauiour.

THe saied Lorde Deputie by his Commission dated the xiij. daie of September. Anno do 1569. made hym Collonell of the men of warre in Munster, and Gouernour of the same Prouince, leauyng then in his companie, and vnder his gouernement, Capitaine Warde, and Capitaine Shute, either of theim hauyng vnder their leadynges twoo hundred Soldiours footemen: and he hymself hauyng to his priuate bande a hundred horsemen clothed in Motley, parte whereof serued with Harquebusses, and parte with horsemennes staues, Maister Iames Crues was at this seruice.

Sir Humfrey had aucthoritie of Marciall lawe, generally cōmitted vnto hym, aswell for the execution of any within the limittes of his Commission, as for the annoyance of any offendour by fire and sworde, or any other kinde of death, accordyng to the quallitie of his or their offences: as otherwise [Page] at his discretion. And to ceasse vppon the Countrey for the victelyng of his companies. With diuerse other articles sett doune in his Commission, more largely then tofore had been committed to any other in that Prouince.

For his entertainemente as Collonell there, he had sixe and twentie shillynges eight pence per diem allowed hym.

And for his horse bande as Capitaine thereof, eight shillynges per diem.

The order and course of his gouernement.

FIrst, wheresoeuer he came to doe her Maiestie seruice, before he attempted any thyng, he proferred her highnesse mercie to the Rebelles, were thei within Holdes, or in Campe: sendyng to them messengers, with offer of pardon bothe for bodie, gooddes, and landes, if thei would presentely yeelde, whiche if thei once refused, although it were with neuer so milde an aunswere, or that thei did but so muche as throwe a stone at the messenger, were he but a horseboye, he would neuer after by any meanes receiue theim to grace, but would subdue theim by the sworde or he departed, how dearly so euer he bought it: whiche doen, he caused euery creature of theim, of all sortes and ages, to passe by the sworde without remission. Accoumptyng the Princes mercie so sacred a thyng, as that it ought to bee taken when it is offered, and not to be had when it is asked.

Whiche course of gouernemente grewe so well to bee knowen to all menne in the Countrey, that at the length no Warde, Castell, Forte, or Fastenesse, would shutte their gates against him, if he sent to sommon them by a horseboy▪ For thei knewe his determination to be suche, as that if thei once refused mercie beyng offered, and yeelded not presently thei muste resolue theim selues to dye, manne, woman, and childe: if thei could not for euer withstande hym, by meanes whereof these commodities ensued.

[Page]First, this his resolute and irremoueable determination towardes them, bredde suche an vniuersall feare and terrour as that thereby verie many yeelded without blowes, bloodshed, or losse, either of their partes or his.

Also it gaue him suche expedition in his seruices, as that thereby he recouered more Fortes in some one daie, then by strong hande would haue been wonne in a yere, respectyng the smalnesse of his companie. And the gainyng of tyme, was one of his cheefest cares, bothe because he had no prouition of victailes for his people, but pulled it as it were out of the enemies mouthe perforce. And also for that he (his companie beeyng so fewe in nomber) not knowyng how to haue supplies: could not beare with the losse of menne, to the winnyng of euery pettie Forte.

He performed all his actions, after suche an open knowē course, and maner, as that he would not graunte grace to an offendour at any maner of requeste, contrary to his resolued course, so as euery manne knewe whereto to truste.

He further tooke this order infringeble, that when soeuer he made any ostyng, or inrode, into the enemies Countrey, he killed manne, woman, and child, and spoiled, wasted, and burned, by the grounde all that he might: leauyng nothyng of the enemies in saffetie, whiche he could possiblie waste, or consume. And these were his reasons that perswaded hym thereto, as I haue often heard hym saie.

Firste the men of warre could not bee maintained, without their Churles, and Calliackes, or women, who milked their Creates, and prouided their victualles, and other necessaries. So that the killyng of theim by the sworde, was the waie to kill the menne of warre by famine, who by flight oftentymes saued them selues from the dinte of the sworde.

Also he helde it dishonourable for the Prince, to practise with Rebelles to accepte her Maiesties mercie: And therefore, he did alwaies seeme to care leaste for the submission of them, whom he cheefly desired to haue become true. And yet [Page] by this course of gouernement it happened, that their wiues and children, whom thei dearly loued, were Embassadours to bryng that to passe, whiche he disdained to seme to desire, or to bee willyng to accepte.

He neuer would parley with any Rebell, nor thereto permitte vnder his charge, saiyng alwaies that he thought his Dogges eares to good, to heare the speeche of the greateste noble manne emongest them, so long as he was a Rebell.

Also he neuer receiued any into protection, but by their owne greate, and long suites: and that with promise firste made to performe these thinges followyng, without whiche he neither did, nor would by any intreatie bee brought, to receiue them to grace.

Firste (of what estate, condition, or degree soeuer he were) at the firste commyng into his presence, he muste fall doune on his knees before the saied Collonell, and there knelyng confesse hymself a traitour, and to haue deserued to bee hanged, and so desire her Maiesties pardon: after whiche sort there came vnto him, the Erle of Glankar, the white knight Mack Donawothe, the Lorde of the greate Woode, and diuers others Irishe Lordes whiche I omitte. To whiche kinde of humilitie, and submission, he draue theim for this cause, that thei might thereby wonder the more at her heighnesse greatnesse: of whom he endeuoured in their hearynges to speake as muche honoure as he ought: Although not so muche as her Maiestie deserued. Declaryng vnto thē howe that he hym self was but a poore gentleman, and that the fame his aucthoritie, proceeded but as a sillie braunche of her highnesse gouernemente, and that receiued from the handes of a meane subiect (his place reserued.)

Secondlie, he should bee sworne to bee true, and faithefull dueryng his life to her Maiestie, and her successours, and to all suche as should from henceforthe (vnder her highnesse and her successours) haue the care, and charge of that Countrey. And this he did, to the ende that their consciences (if [Page] thei had any) might bee a clogge to theim, if thei should infringe the same.

Thirdlie, for performaunce of thinges before spoken of, euery one should bee bounde in a Recognizaunce, and that in as greate a somme as the saied Collonell should seme good, whiche ordinarely amounted vnto so muche, as verie nere counteruailed the value of their goodes and landes, or at the least was muche more then thei were able to paie. And this pollicie he had therein, that it mighte lye alwaies in the Prince, Deputie, or other cheef officers, thereby by coloure of Iustice, to laye any of theim by the feete, for forfaityng of their bandes (whiche he knewe thei all would doe) and so by that meanes preuented a mischeef, before thei could commit any further acte of greate daunger. The totall somme of the Recognizaunces taken by hym within his charge, and certified vnder the handes of the Maiors and Touneclarkes of the Cities and Tounes within that Prouince, amounted vnto — 244182. l. 4. s̄. 5. d. q d.

Lastely euery one should put suche pledges in hande (for the keepyng and performyng of all the Articles aforesaied) as the saied Collonell would demaunde, whiche he did to preuent theim thereby, that thei should not dare to offende. For the choise of his pledges was on this sorte, he tooke not onely those, whom the cheefe Lorde loued beste: But rather those whom his followers of greateste force, helde derest either by blood, or fosterage: to the ende that thei should forsake their Lorde, or persecute hym, if he attempted any thyng to the iniuryng or indaungeryng of their dearest beloued. All whiche pledges he left in hande within the Cities of Corke, and Limbricke at his departyng from thence.

Farther, he neuer tooke pledge (if he were of yeres to speake) but by his owne consent, and that vpon this conditiō of all partes. That if he for whom he laye should become a Rebell, and should refuse to come to the saied Collonell, or other cheefe officers, when he should bee sent for: that then the [Page] pledge shall dye for the offence of hym (so disobaiyng) that he laye for, and the other when he might bee taken: And in this matter none of them durste passe through his fingers, for he alwaies obserued his orders, and course of gouernemente irremoueably, not makyng hymself subiecte to any perswasion.

Moreouer he helde this generall rule, that what soeuer offendoure was taken he died, or had his iuste punishmente without redemption. Affirmyng hymself to bee of the opinion, that the noble Capitaine Lamacus was of, who saied, Quod nonest bis in bello peccare. And thei whiche formerly did moste hurte, after thei were receiued to mercie, he had in greatest estimation, beyng perswaded that thei had moste value in thē to doe good seruice, if thei would applie it well.

His maner was that the heddes of all those (of what sort soeuer thei were) whiche were killed in the daie, should bee cutte of from their bodies, and brought to the place where he incamped at night: and should there bee laied on the ground, by eche side of the waie leadyng into his owne Tente: so that none could come into his Tente for any cause, but commonly he muste passe through a lane of heddes, whiche he vsed ad terrorem, the dedde feelyng nothyng the more paines thereby: and yet did it bryng greate terrour to the people, when thei sawe the heddes of their dedde fathers, brothers, children, kinsfolke, and freendes, lye on the grounde before their faces, as thei came to speake with the saied Collonell. Whiche course of gouernemente maie by some bee thought to cruell, in excuse whereof it is to bee aunswered. That he did but then beginne that order with theim, whiche thei had in effecte euer tofore vsed toward the Englishe. And further he was out of doubte, that the dedde felte no paines by cuttyng of their heddes, accordyng to the example of Diogenes, who beyng asked by his freendes, what should be doen with hym when he died, aunswered in this sorte: Caste me on a dunghill ꝙ he, where vnto his freendes replied, saiyng: The [Page] Dogges will then eate you, his aunswere thereto was thus why then sette a staffe by me: Wherevnto thei aunswered, you shall not feele them, to whom he again replied with these woordes, what neede I then to care.

But certainly by this course of gouernemente (although to some it maie seeme otherwise) there was muche blood saued, and greate peace ensued in haste. For through the terrour, whiche the people conceiued therby, it made short warres. For he reformed the whole Countrey of Munster, and brought it into an vniuersall peace, and subiection, within six weekes: leauyng at his commyng frō thence Iames Mack Morres as a woode Kerne, accompanied onely at the moste not with aboue seuentene menne: who at his first commyng thether commaunded many a thousande. Whiche reformation, and establishemente of the Countries peace there performed, presently came from thence, and so lefte his charge there with sufficiente pledge, bonde, and paune, for the good behauioure of euery Lorde, and Capitaine for theim selues, and their followers, refusyng no duetifull seruice euer since.

An abstracte of some of his perticular seruices.

EMongeste many others, these perticulare seruices followyng he did in persone, of whiche onely I haue thought good to make rehearsall of these fewe, omittyng the reste.

Firste with 150. footemen, he seruyng then a priuate capitaine, vnder the leadyng of maister Edward Randolphe then his Collonell at Knockfargus, he stoode firmely in the plaine feelde, charged with fower thousande footemen, and sixe hundred horsemen of Onyles companie, and there killed and hurte of the enemie about twoo hundred, hauyng of his companie in all not aboue thirtie hurte and slaine. This seruice was doen for the rescuyng of Capitaine Wilforde, and Capitaine Warde, who although thei ventered them selues [Page] farther then reason would, to cause certaine disordered Soldiours to retire, stirred therevnto through the tender care of the Soldiours safeties: Thei did so valiauntly behaue theim selues therein, as that thei worthely deserued greate commendation.

The seconde seruice was doen by Kylkennie the third of Iulie a thousande fiue hundred sixtie and nine, where he beyng accompanied with maister Henry Dauels, a noble and valiant gentleman, now slain by Ihon of Desmond, and xij. others, went from sir Peter Carewe knight, with pretrnce but to vewe the Rebelles. And yet with that small nomber, charged he them at the leaste fourtie score, before all the rest of his companie: the rebelles beeyng then in nomber aboute twelue hundred, as it was reported, and standyng then in battaill raye. The saied sir Peter Carewe, and one Appesley Lieutenaunt to the saied Collonell commyng nexte after hym, accompanied with the horsebande of the saied Collonell, and a certaine of maister Capitaine Wingefeeldes soldiours, who were that daie in the vauntegard, amountyng in the whole to the nomber of a hundreth and twentie horse. Capitaine Malbe, and Capitaine Bassenet followyng in the rereward, either of them hauyng vnder their leadynges fiftie horsemen. In this charge the saied Collonelles blacke Curtall horse, whervpon he then serued, was verie sore hurt vnder hym in eight places.

The thirde seruice was doen by Kylmallocke, the xxiiij. daie of September 1569. wherewith his owne horsebande he scirmouched with three thousande rebells at the least, the Erle of Glanckar beyng then there emongest thē in persone with diuers other Lordes and Capitaines of countreis. In this scirmouche all his companie were beaten from hym, sauyng one Tadcastell, a Soldiour of his owne bande, who standyng with hym in defendyng of a Forde, was in thende slaine. And he hym self beyng lefte alone, and enforced to defende the same, kepte it a greate while againste verie neere [Page] thirtie horsemen, Iames Macke Morres, R [...]wrey, Macke Shee, the cheef Capitaine of the Desmondes Galliglasses, the Lorde of the greate Wood, Pursell Suppell, Edmonde Sites Dani, with diuers other gentlemen emongst them. Also in this scirmouche his blacke Curtall horse, of whom I spake of before, was hurte in diuers places of the bodie, and was shotte through the necke with a Harcabushe. And the saied Collonelles Targatte was stricken throughe with diuers dartes, besides many blowes on his Armoure, but in persone not hurte. Whereat the Irishe wondered so muche thei made sondrie songes and Rimes of hym (and his blacke Curtall horse) imaginyng hym self to haue been an enchaunter, that no man could hurte ridyng on a Deuill.

And here is to bee specially noted, that in all the seruices before spoken of, and at moste of suche other seruices as wer doen by the saied Collonell in Munster, Capitaine Ward and maister Crues shewed them selues verie foreward, and valiaunte. And therefore in that respecte thei haue deserued commendation, whiche in nowise is to bee forgotten.

The saied sir Henry Sidney Lorde Deputie, inuested the saied Collonell with the title and honour of knighthoode, for his good seruice on Neweyeres daie 1569, and so came he into England, where he hath remained a while the moste parte in Courte: Since that he serued the Prince of Orrange, in the cause of Religion in Zelande and Flaunders, where beyng geneall of twoo thousande Englishe: he had for the entertainement of his owne persone in wages and other allowaunces, verie neere tenne thousande Markes per Annum, besides verie large allowaunces for all the Officers, Capitaines and Soldiours vnder his regimente.

At an other time sir Ihon Parret beyng as lorde Iustice in a Prouince of Irelande, behaued himself so nobly, and vsed suche seuere Iustice, that no one Lorde nor other vnder his charge, durst any waie offende hym For he nether graunted pardō (but vpō merueilous great cause) nor would giue eare [Page] to a, parley: But alwaies proceded in suche a manly maner, and stoute resolution of minde, that he was bothe feared and beloued. And so muche desired of good menne to tarry in the countrey: that the badde sorte to this daie, are aferd to heare his name rehearsed. He was suche a scourge to the wicked, and suche a comforte to the worthie. Whose particular seruices (if laisure presently serued me) I would publishe to sir Ihon Parrets greate glorie and commendation.

Finis.

¶A Mirrhor for rebelles to looke into, where the death of one Roorie Oge in Irelande (whose life was alwaies without order) doeth shewe that the reward of vice is euer open shame, and a foule ende.

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IN an other season of Irishe seruices, and triall of suche as are doubted, a practise was drawne by a stobburne and stoute Rebell called Roorie Oge: For the betraiyng of Capitaine Harryngton, and one maister Coesbie, and albeeit Capitaine Harryngton had been in notable and dangerous seruice, the space of tenne yeres before, (where many practises were to bee seen and auoided). Yet this drifte of Roorie Oges was so cunnyngly handeled, no former experience might preuente it: So that Roorie Oge by this cautell and traiterous maner, had his purpose brought to effect, and did what he pleased with Capitaine Harryngton, vsyng him cruellie with all maner of rude handlyng and entertainmente. Faste locked to a poste euery night a greate season, and at length the Englishe Capitaines beeyng moued with this crueltie, found a deuise to beset the house, where Roorie Oge haunted: and the traitour seeyng hym self in daunger, came in a rage to Capitaine Harryngton, and gaue hym twelue greate woundes, where he laye locked to a poste, and so lefte hym for dedde, the Englishe Soldiours hearyng capitaine Harryngton call for helpe, were thrustyng into the [Page] house: But Roorie Oge moste stoutly ran out emong them, and by a desperate aduenture escaped through the thickest of the throng, and did muche hurte after. But at this presence the Capitaine was brought awaie all to bee mangeled and hurte: and all those that were founde a liue in the house, were slaine and putte to the sworde, in so muche that the wife of Roorie Oge was in like sorte dispatched of her life. For whiche acte many foule murthers & other cruelties, Roorie Oge committed. But when that Capitaine Harryngton was healed, he persecuted Roorie Oge so hardlie and so often, that he putte hym diuers tymes in daunger to bee ouerthrowen. Maister Parcker as I heard saie, Lieutenant to Capitaine Furres with his valliaunt Soldiours, recouered Capitaine Harryngtō out of the handes of his enemies. And to bee shorte, a meanes was founde after long seruices and daungerous attemptes, that Roorie Oge hym self was entrapped, and taken in a Nette and stale, that he had made and laied for an other. The maner wherof was, that Roorie Oge beeyng desirous to betraie the Lorde of Vpprosserie, did drawe a drifte (by one, that could finelie handle the matter) that he hymself should seeme to fall in daunger, and so be deliuered vnto my Lorde of Vpprosseries handes, who notyng the deuice (giuyng no farther credite to the tale then neede required) armed his men priuilie in twoo companies, and made as though he would followe the fellow, that came to bryng about Roories drift, and commyng where Roorie had lodged, pursued the enterprise, and seemed to followe the aduice of hym that came to practise. And by chaunce and good fortune, the twoo companies mentioned of before, had enuironed Roorie Oge ere he was ware, and thereby he was defeited, and had the rewarde of iniquitie by the self same meanes, that he was wont to serue others. A notable iuste iudgemente of God, and an example worthie the notyng.

Now after this, and for many good causes and peeces of [Page] seruice, Capitaine Harryngton was made Knight, by the honourable Sir Henry Sidney, then Lorde deputie of Irelande. And when he gaue vp the Sworde, Sir Willyam Drurie was the Iustice, in whose tyme and especially in the beginnyng of his gouernemente, was many thynges to bee dooen, that might shewe a Marciall minde, and expresse the worthinesse of a noble gouernour. For then one sir Iames Fitz Morrice (a greate practisien with the Pope and other Potentates) entered Irelande with seuen Shippes, bryngyng with hym bothe Soldioures, and other people to disquiete a state: Yea, and had suche a nomber of perswasions, for the troublyng of a Common weale, that this Fitz Morrice drewe to his side, a multitude of licencious and lawlesse people, in so muche that the companie grewe so greate, that sir Ihon of Desmonde (a manne of good birthe, and ill disposition) ioyned hym self with that partie, committyng an execrable murther before he beganne to reuolte, and slue an Englishe gentleman, that had long before been his freende, and vsed the murther so hainously, and againste all naturall kindnesse, that euery mannes harte that thinkes thereon, abhorres the remembraunce thereof. For vnder a pretēce of amitie, Sir Ihon of Desmonde gatte his frende in a trappe (whiche freende had dooen hym greate seruice and pleasure) and so sodainly steppes vnto hym, and gaue hym a mortall blowe, notwithstandyng the followers of sir Ihon, were not willyng to goe aboute suche a murther. But when Ihon of Desmond had begonne the broile, the bloodshedde and Butcherie followed, not onely on good Henry Dauelles, but also on others as innocente as hym self of any suche slaughter, and vnmercifull dealing. Well these thinges, and an infinite nomber of straunge matters (sette a broche by Iames Fitz Morres) might haue appalled the spirite of greater personages then I speake of. Yet the honourable and Soldiourlike sir Willyā Drurie, in moste assured hope of victorie, made hedde vppon the enemies and prepared, with the helpe of the [Page] Erle of Kildare, and others very honourable (and of good callyng, loyall subiectes in Ireland) to withstande the great force and furie of Fitz Morres: Whiche at that season waxed so warme and extreame hotte, that sondrie became colde in good will, that were thought to bee feruent in the seruice of the Prince. But the might and force of a rightfull quarrel and the readie diligence and forewardnesse of a good gouernour, so plucked vp the hartes of those that began to droupe, that one hundred of the Englishe side seemed a thousande, and fiue thousande on the contrary parte, proued nothyng in effect. For the hartes of rebelles trembleth, where the Princes power is presented, and the wittes and purposes of sauage people, goes a Wolle gatheryng: when the ciuill Soldiour is certainly grounded in a manly determination. As it seemed by all those that followed the Lorde Iustice, and their noble successe of seruice dooeth argue euidentlie, that trothe and couragious Soldiours of God, are neuer forsaken, and rebellious myndes are doubtfull of life, destituted of grace, and vncertaine of euery thyng thei goe about.

Fitz Morres in this maner as you haue heard, landyng and fortisiyng for his moste suretie: lefte no waie vnsought, that might annoye and hinder the hope of the Englishemen, and in many kindes of practises excelled, and waxed strong as he thought: And as diuers affirme he was stout, valiant, and of knowledge sufficiente to encomber a sounde, and a whole Countrey. But in fine, it happened vppon some ouersight of Fitz Morres (or sette purpose of God) that his cunnyng failed him, his force was but ill, and his fortune worse. For in the middell of his traiterous triumphyng, he tasted the right recompence of rebellion, and was slain in the feeld, his hedde brought into Corke Toune, and his bodie and reputation, buried in the graue of reproche and infamie.

The Lorde Iustice had by this tyme, or in shorte tyme after, receiued some succour and aide out of Englande. And sir Ihon Parret as Admirall of fower of the Quenes Shippes, [Page] maister Willyam Gorge, maister Nicholas Gorge, maister Gilbart Yorke, Capitaine Peers, Capitaine Awdley, Capitaine Hinde, accompaniyng hym as Capitaines appointed for that seruice. Sir Willyam Morgan, maister Pellam, maister Bousser, maister Broncker, maister Willyam Norrice, maister Crofttes, maister Ihon Soutche, and many other lustie Capitaines, and Gentlemen of good regarde, were in like sorte appoincted for the seruice of Irelande. But what was dooen, and the rehearsall thereof, I committe to those that liueth to Regester, and keepe in memorie mennes labours and seruices hereafter. Whiche writers in giuyng life to matters, that tyme maie weare out of mynde: are not onely well occupied, but likewise makes good Soldiours imitate and followe the noble footesteppes of those that wente before them: by whiche meanes Goddes glorie is aduaunced, and our Countries honoure is vpholden and worthely defended.

Finis.

¶A small rehersall of some speciall seruices in Flaunders of late, part whereof were in the tyme of Don Ihons gouernment and the reste beyng doen in the present seruice of the Prince of Parma, now gouernour of Flaunders.

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THE remembraunce of a booke dedicated to the right honourable Sir Frances Walsyngham touchyng the troubles of Flanders: moues me againe to putte penne to Paper in that dehalfe. Breefly to beginne where I left (whiche was a matter of Don Ihon) and procede a little in the dooynges of the Prince of Parma presentely in action and place of greate matter exspected. And because my moste desire is to aduaunce the Soldiours of Englande, as well as to publishe the seruices of forraine countreys, I omitte many thinges that straunge Nations haue been exercised withall. And declare somwhat in the fauour of myne owne countreymen, that serue and haue serued vnder the Prince of Orange, and States of the Lowe Countrey, meanyng not to meddell with matter of State (that passeth my reache and capacitie) but familiarely to treate of suche thynges, as the common sorte of people doe carpe vpon, and is sufferable to bee written of. As muche to delite the reader that searcheth for noueltie, as any other cause that moues me to this labor, and rehearsall of seruice.

[Page]The houge and greate armies, the long continuaunce of troubles: the passages and and discourses of manyfolde miseries, and the open Plague, and disturbaunce of poore afflicted Flaunders, I referre to the vnsearcheable wisedome of the Almightie, and the graue iudgement of the worlde. And hearyng the certaintie of some scirmouches, and seruices of late: I followe the trothe of newe matter, that falles nexte into my memorie.

You haue heard, and the worlde can witnesse, that Don Ihon before his death (being desirours of fame and victorie) sought and practised all meanes possible, to come to his purpose: and knowyng where and in what order the states laye, and what straites were kept by the pollecie of Mounsire de Bussie, Generall of the Campe for the States. He determined with a full resolute mynde, manfullie to attempte some exploite, that might amase the Prince of Orranges side, and plucke vp the courages of his owne people, that laye a longe season idelly, from dooyng of any greate enterprise. And so therevppon Don Ihon in a maner gaue to vnderstande (as by the sequel was perceiued) that he would visite the campe of the States, or winne suche straites from them, as should be muche to their discontent, and his greate aduauntage.

In the yere of our Lorde 1578. the warres beyng then at the hottest betwixt the estates and the Kyng, (the estates hauyng a greate puissant armie in the feelde, vnder the conduicte of the Graue of Busie. The Kyng hauyng also an other vnder the leadyng of Don Ihon his base brother.) It happened the firste of August, the enemie to visite the armie of the states, who laye then intrenched in the feelde, nere vnto a Toune called Reminant. The Armie beeyng composed of diuers nations, bothe horsemen and footemen: there was one regimente of Englishe of twelue hundred, vnder the leadyng of the Collonell Candishe, and in his absence his Lieutenaunte Collonell Richard Bingham. The saied Lieutenaunt and no other Generall officer of that Nation, beeyng [Page] commaunded to the feelde by the Generall of the states, led forthe the whole nomber of shotte that was vnder his charge viz. sixe hundred. The leaders vnder hym of the regimente, were Capitaine Laukynges, Capitaine Fitz Willyams, Capitaine Edwardes, the Lieutenant Paddon, the Lieutenante Dalton, the Liutenante Chubbe, well accompanied with diuers other worthie gentlemen and officers. Beeyng thus appointed with direction, to leaue in a sure garde vpon the nexte Mounte to the trenche, and with the reste to make hedde to the enemie, and to entertaine hym as he should see cause, offered at sight of the eye, keepyng euermore the streight on the right hande: and Steward with the Scottes on the lefte hande, hauyng now placed a sufficient garde vppon the Mounte, and sent Capitaine Fitz Willyams farther forthe by a quarter of a mile, to assure theim of an other grounde and strength of aduauntage. He receiues commaū demente againe from the Generall, that he should leaue the Mount, and drawe his forces to the Churche, whiche stoode aboute an Englishe Mile from the Mounte, and vppon the saied streight wherevpon he presently lefte the Mounte, leauyng behinde Capitaine Fitz Willyam to garde the place of aduauntage, where he firste lefte hym, beeyng a place of greate importaunce. And with the reste he maketh waie to the Bridge, where he lefte the Lieutenaunte Paddon, with Chubbe and their companies in garde of the place: and to stande faste for a releef, to those that he ledde more foreward to the Churche. Beeyng now arriued at the Churche, with Capitaine Liggins his Lieutenant Dalton. And Capitaine Edwardes with a three hundred shotte, he sendeth vp to the Steeple twoo of his Soldiours to discouer the enemie, who presently shewed that thei might see the faire Hethe, whiche was yet halfe an Englishe Mile further, and vppon it the whole power of the enemie in battaillions, bothe horsemen and footemen: and further that thei marched in for bothe the streightes. The Lieutenante not reposing to muche truste [Page] in the twoo priuate Soldiours, leaped of from his horse, and went vp the Steeple hym self, where as soone as he had discouered the enemie, and perceiued hym to make in, for bothe the streigtes, he presentely at his commyng doune, commaunded Capitaine Liggins to stande fast with twoo hundred shotte at the Churche, and takyng with hym the Lieutenaunt Dalton, Edwardes, Finche, and Straubrige, with diuers other gentlemen officers with twoo hundred shotte. He maketh hedde to the streight, where he founde the enemie commyng faste on to enter the same. Who forthwith disbanded certaine shotte, ledde by the aforesaied Dalton, and Edwardes, and enterteined them with the scirmouch so sufficiently, as he forced them to giue grounde, and to retire towardes the streight, whiche Steward had in garde, so far that in the action, he brought hym self betwixte the enemie and the Scottes, who mistakyng the companie, gaue theim from the Hedge where thei laye, suche a volley of shotte, as made them to lose more grounde, then euer the enemie could haue doen. The enemie in the meane time, perceiuyng that, (and fought vpon a retreate) came on with great furie, beeyng supplied with freshe nombers: But could not for all he might doe, force them to abādon the streight, till suche tyme as certain Englishe menne that were within the Closses to discouer, broughte woorde that the enemie had entered the streight vpon the Scottes, whiche was very true. For euen at the instant the fire was seen to arise in the village, and the whole forces that were to enter, betwixte the water and the Englishe companies, to retire theim selues vnto the Hethe againe. The Scottes makyng good their fight vpon the retreate, the Lieutenant was likewise driuen to doe the same, whiche if he had not, the enemie had cutte betwixte hym, his companie, and the trenches. This beeyng well perceiued by Capitaine Liggins, who was as is saied, left at the churche for a releef by the Lieutenaunte: the Capitaine presently aduaunced hym self, and was now come halfe the waie, to the [Page] succour of the Lieutenaunte, and to preuent the enemie, and ioyne hym self with the forces of the Lieutenant. Thei altogether retire vnto the Churche, and perceiuyng that the enemie came on apace, the Lieutenaunt leaueth Capitain Liggins, and Dalton his Lieutenaunt, at a reasonable grounde of strength to entertaine theim: and he hymself rideth backe to the bridge, to fetche the releef for Capitaine Liggyns his retreate, whiche releef was ledde by the Lieutenantes Paddon and Chubbe, where he founde it of more strength then he thought of. For he found his brother Capitaine Bingham come forthe with al the shotte of his companie: beyng so willed by Capitaine Palmer the Sergant Maior of that regiment, who commaunded hym from his warde.

The enemie seeyng the streight of that waie, and that their other forces preuailed more vppon the other streight, forsooke any longer to attempte the same againste the Englishe: and retired theim as thei might on the side ouer the Closes, to ioyne theim with their other forces, whiche had euen now passed the streighte, whiche the Scottes had in garde. Who all together made hedde vp to the hill, and so to the burnt house, then fired by the Scottes in their retreate: who at that instaunte forsooke the feelde, and retired theim all into the Campe. Not farre from whiche place was Capitaine Fitz Willyams, to whose tourne it now came. The Lieutenaunte perceiuyng the enemie to bee aduaunced, as neere the Trenches as he hym self was. Commaunded his troupes to marche with all speede towardes Fitz Willyās to bryng them selues altogether on the hedde of the enemie, and betwixt them and the Trenches. Where at his arriuall he sent the Lieutenant Dalton with fiftie shotte into a close, to beate theim on the flancke, and hym self with the others, dealte with them on frunte. Here was Dalton with his encountered, and twoo or three of his slain, and of the enemies as many.

At this tyme came in Capitaine Fludde, one of maister [Page] Morgans companies, and was the firste that came in of the eleuen Ensignes, to the greate comfort and encouragement of the other power, that were of maister Norris his Regimente. From the tyme that the Lieutenaunte Generall of maister Candishes regimente, first entered into scirmouche on the farre Hethe, vntill this tyme were passed twoo howers, and from his first goyng forthe three.

This Capitaine Fludd had his marche on the rereward of maister Norris his regimente, whiche was euen now all entered into the Estates Campe, and was their firste arriuyng to the same. After that Capitaine Fludde had deliuered diuers volles of shotte, thei retired to the hille hauyng spente their pouder. In this scirmouche whiche was verie well maintained, by the forces of maister Candishes Regimente, as also now by some of the other, was slaine the Capitaine Liggins, and one maister Shilton, and maister Sā des sore hurte, whereof not long after he died, and maister Wingfeelde who recouered, with diuers others hurte and slaine. Aboute this tyme came in Capitaine Gill, Lieutenaunte of maister Norrisses priuate bande, accompanied with certaine squadrons of shotte of the saied bande. After this came in Capitaine Salesburie, with diuers troupes of maister Ihon Cobhams, and Capitaine Aumond, with the shotte of his owne companie. As also Capitaine Cromwell with some of his owne companie, and diuers other gentlemen: as master Frances Fourder, master Anthonie Ellis, Capitaine Erryngton, all whiche Capitaines and gentlemen, behaued them selues verie sufficiently, and with greate valure and courage, ioyned theim selues with the Capitaines and companies of maister Candishes Regimente, who as you haue heard, were there long before, and neuer departed the feelde, but had alwaies their releef of pouder brought vnto them into the feelde, by Smithe the Prouost Marshall: who receiued the same of Palmer thei Sergeaunte Maior, who was lefte within the Campe, to prouide suche necessaries, [Page] as also to gouerne the Trenches of the Englishe quarter, whiche Capitaine Markain had in charge, with the armed menne of that Regimente, where he remained and serued all that daie. As tyme had passed a twoo howers more in sore scirmouche of bothe sides, maister Yorke came into the feelde (who had been busie within, about the deuision of their quarter) for the eleuen Ensignes, whiche as you haue heard, were that forenoone ariued. To whom the Lieutenant maister Byngham shewed the abuse of Soldiours, that were of that Regimente, who would not bee retired, nor obaye his commaundemente. Maister Yorke aunswered, that he had then little to doe with them, vpon whiche maister Bingham demaūded for maister Norris: to whom he ment to signifie their disorder and disobedience: As these speeches passed betwixt them, thei sawe the whole force and power of the enemies Armie, that were within the straight, to moue and alter their present state, with sounde of Trompet and Drom, presentyng and aduaunsyng them, bothe horsemen and foote men towardes vs: wherevpon the Lieutenante demaunded of maister Yorke what it might signifie, either to charge vs in grosse, or els to make their retraite, beeyng doubtfull whiche of these twoo, the enemie would forthwith putte in vse, the saied twoo gentlemen to preuente the worste, and to assure thē selues, and the state of the whole Armie, thought good to possesse them selues of a hille, or grounde of aduauntage, whiche lay verie neere the enemie. For whiche ground these gentlemen forthewith made for (and also maister Roger Willyams came in on their left hande to the same) who had not long before in the feeld, before the Viscount of Gant and the reste, moste valliauntly encountered with a Spanyard, and as worthely acquited hymself of the same) at their enteryng or chargyng for the Hille, thei made signes that their forces should followe. Who beyng arriued and possessed of the grounde, discended from their horses to encourage the whole nombers and troupes of our Nation to the seruice [Page] to followe, whiche thei beganne to doe verie faste. The first that came in was the Capitaine maister Roger Byngham, accompanied with diuers Gentlemen and Soldiours, as maister Huzey, maister Knight, maister Tēple, with many more: The other brother came in vpon the higher grounde, more neere the Hethe with a fiftie or sixtie, with hym, some of that bande, and some of others, with whiche the saied Capitaine incontinent entered into scirmouche with the enemie from the Hille, and the corner of the Heathe to their forces; whiche were placed all a long vnder a Hedge. This scirmouche was so well maintained of bothe sides, that thei grewe verie neere the one to the other: and diuers slaine on bothe sides. As the actions passed in this heate of shotte, the horse of maister Yorke was stricken with a bullet, throughe whiche he was forced to forsake the Hille or place: giuyng a note thereof by woorde from hym self, to the Lieutenaunte. Who fearyng leaste the goyng awaie of that horse, from the Hille inward would staie or discourage those, that were cō myng into their succours or aide. Sent one of his menne to his brother the Capitaine, willyng hym to fight or deale warely vppon a reteate: And leaped hym self to horse, to hasten and bryng them in, whiche by this meanes or charge he doubted of, and were commyng euen in this meane while: The enemie charged with greate furie Capitaine Bingham, and the reste that were with hym, who moste worthely choose rather to sell his life dearely, with the slaughter of some of his enemies, then in vile and disorderly sort to retire, yet made he an orderly retreate into the high waie, in whiche there came vp on the lefte hande, a greate troupe of the enemies, who inuironed or caste theim aboute: with this the Lieutenaunte came in with succours, who was encountered with the saied enemie twentie paces, before he could ariue at the Capitaine: and was so hardely charged, and ouersaied with nomber, that he was forced to fight pelle melle in a retraite, all a long vnder the Hedge, till he came to the elbowe, [Page] or bought of the cloase, where Capitaine Edwardes, the Lieutenaunt of maister Cabendiches companie came in to hym, well accompanied with the shotte of that band, with the aide of whiche the Lieutenant Generall charged the enemie again with a greate furie and courage, forcyng them to a maine retraite euen to the Hille, or corner of the Hedge, where thei findyng their freshe reserued troupes & strength, charged vs againe the seconde tyme, with greater furie then before. For it stoode them in hande to giue vs our filles, that thei might make their retraite with saffetie, forsyng the Lieutenaunt againe to a general retraite: vpon this seconde retraite came in the cheefe Generall of our Nation, Maister Norris, to whom the Lieutenant adressed hym, beyng then extreme wearie, bothe in bodie and mynde, for the doubtfull estate of his brothers, and the other gentlemen, as whether thei were taken or slaine, whiche he signified forthe with to the Generall maister Ihon Norris. Who beyng freshe and lustie, endeuoured hymself moste worthely, in commandyng charge of all handes, with whiche the enemie was againe repulsed to his ordinary garde of strength: beeyng brought to this state: there beganne againe a hotte scirmouche betwixt them, in whiche was neither sworde nor pouder spared. The enemie seyng the great courage of the Englishe, who would not leaue theim, but were harde at their heeles: was doubtfull how to make his retraite with any assuraunce, thought good in pollicie to giue vs a maine charge once againe, with as greate furie as thei might. And this was the third tyme, and the laste that thei persed our Nasion, in whiche thei forced vs further then euer before, euen to the corner of the cloase, nexte to our Trenches. At whiche place came in Capitain Fitz Willyams with a reasonable good troupe, who the Lieutenaunt commaunded to charge on the enemie, and promise doo followe hym in the back as he did, but as he cam to the elbowe of the cloase, he mette the saied Capitain commyng aboute, sore beaten, and all the place from that to the [Page] Hille, imploied with the companies of bothe sides in fight of pelle melle, with diuers encounters of many worthie men of courage vpon this occasion or fight, wee stoode longer then in any other before. Here thei gaue vs so muche as we were well contente, (after wee had forced them to retire) to take a pauce on it. Attendyng the commyng of the Collonell Morgan, who was sette forward from the trenches, with a good troupe to our succours. And truely though he were not in the feelde, yet did he very worthie seruice within the Campe, in giuyng order for vs to be supplied in diuers cases: As also in fastenyng and assuryng the myndes, of a nomber of fearfull straungers. Who had their wagons and packes all readie truste to flie, onely restyng vppon the assurance of our Nasion. In this meane while the launces of the enemie had passed the straite, in their retraite backe againe: and laye at the mouth of the straite towardes vs, seuen or eight companies of Harcabuses on horsebacke, to deale with them that would attempte to pursue theim. Their footemen that had been so long in action with vs, seyng their retraite prepared for, and their tyme come without sounde of Drumme, stale awaie ouer twoo or three cloases, till thei paste the crossewaie, that went towardes the straite on the right hande. At this crossewaie thei had placed a releefe of shot, whiche was emploied againste maister Norris, and the reste that followed hym. From this crossewaie, and corner whiche was a grounde of strength: thei deliuered a volle in brauerie, and somewhat in pollicie more then to hurte, on the instant of whiche volley of shot thei tooke their heeles ouer the Medes and ditches, and neuer tourned till thei came to the farre Heathe, where thei founde the Launces, for their garde: who presentely conducted them into the Armie. And thēselues, made the rereward with the shotte on horse, that laie yet more behinde at the mouthe of the straite, towardes our trenches, as I haue shewed you before, ouer twoo or three cloases thei were paste, before wee could learne of their fearfull retraite. Yet were [Page] there diuers lustie fellowes of ours, that were in with the hindmoste, and tooke some prisoners.

The Prince of Parma commyng to the gouernemente of Flaunders, after the death of Don Ihon (whose vallue is waighed by the wisedome of the worlde) beganne pollitikely and manfully to vse his aucthoritie: For so the cace required, consideryng diuers Gouernours bearyng the Torche before hym, and he with a little Candell must either followe their steppes, or goe the course his owne light should leade hym. And beeyng wearied with worldely affaires (though yong of yeres) sought sonderie waies to ease the burthen of his breaste, bothe by pollicie and causes, that happe hazarde might bryng to good perfection) and so bendyng his studie and spirites, aboute some daungerous aduenture, and noble attempte. He firste made a shewe, as though he would haue besieged Antwarpp (bryngyng a power on the spurre, to amasse the worlde) and in that ronnyng campe amused their wittes, that sawe but into the outwarde shewes of ordinarie causes▪ and therewith all when the brauado was made towardes Antwarppe (on whiche toune the whole State depended) and some of the Prince of Parmas men wente, and ventered verie farre, yet siue of Englishe and others a nomber scarce worthie hearyng.

The Prince of Parma retired, and immediately vppon good direction and order, besieged Mastricke, a marueilous strong Toune subiect to no euill, but misfortune or mannes pollicie. Whiche Toune shewed it self so well and worthely, that I must needes (without any greate intelligence of euery particuler seruices) write of the notorious matters, that fell out duryng the tyme of the siege. And for that the noble myndes, and greate courages of menne, delightes in doyng greate thynges, and hearyng of mightie matters. It is reason in aunsweryng their hopes and iudgementes, to delate a little, and make a long discourse, of these Marciall affaires. For suche a noble behauiour of Soldiours on bothe sides, [Page] maie not bee forgotten, nor bee left bare and naked, from the roebes of renoume, and remembraunce of the worlde.

The Spanyardes and others what soeuer, that serued the Prince of Parma, made a stoute and gallante approche to the Toune of Mastricke: In whiche attempte, thei of the Toune were tried and founde, bothe able to resiste, and willyng to defende. Their scirmouches and maner of warre, did to the vttermoste shewe, there was no faintnesse of hart, nor lacke of force, to withstande a stoute enemie. For euery Minute of an an howre, thei offered as muche brauerie and bolde courage, as any people that euer were in our daies, did abide the siege: set Haddyngton aparte.

Well, now the Spanyardes placed the Campe in good order, the Countrey neere about in subiection: the Munition ready, and all necessaries for a siege prouided for, the Batterie was planted, and euery Trenche garded and looked to, in the moste warlike sort and maner might be deuised. Notwithstandyng thei of the Toune made many sallies, and issued so often, that it was thought, neither their courage was to be daunted, nor their Toune to be wonne.

But the Prince of Parma myndyng onely victorie, and perswadyng nothyng but hazard of life, or daunger of bodie, framed his Soldiours to suche a resolution of mynde, that thei thought neither vamures of yearth, nor walles of brasse might keepe theim from their desired conquest: with whiche resolution in the face of the shott, and lapps of their enemies, thei lighted verie often, yet scambled out of perill, as the present mischeef would suffer, and euery man might make shift for hym self.

There was to be seen betweene these twoo people, suche stoutnesse of minde, and practise of witte, that nothyng was forgotten, that might giue grace to the one, or bryng good fortune to the other. So in this sort a long season was spent, and no small charges bestowed, greately to the disquietnesse of bothe the parties, and wonder of their neighbours (farre [Page] or neere) that daiely gaped for newes, and were fedde with suche reportes, as the packettes vnfolded, and the Postes would make brute of.

And all this while thei within the Toune hoped for succour, and their enemies without, were but to withstande any power should approche them: And made a full accoumpt, either to giue battaill, or winne the toune thei had besieged. The Batterie was plied, the Cannons wente of, the wildefire was flong, the engines of warre were occupied, the soldiours were readie to assaulte, and the Mine was thrust full of poulder, to blowe vp the walles, and all the crueltie and terrour that could bee inuented, was speedily sette a broche, too make the murther and bloodshed the more. The people of Mastricke had made a counter Mine, and in the tyme of the assaulte, siue the woorkemen vnder the yearth, and defended their walles moste manfully: whiche was assailed with suche a furie and courage, as though a mainy of Gyauntes, had set vpon a fewe children: or a multitude of Wolues, had ronne vpon a poore and simple flocke of Shepe. But yet for all this furie, and dreadfull maner of approche, the Soldiours assalted did shewe thē selues so valliant, that the assailantes were forced after long fight (at the pushe of the Pike) to retire, and shrinke from the breache, and with greate losse of many a noble Soldiour, turne their faces from their enemies, and drawe them selues from daunger, to the sauegard of their Trenches, and gardyng of their Campe.

This first assault was so stoutly withstoode, that a long while after the Toune tooke some reste: But the Spanyardes waiyng not their liues, and waxyng angerie for this repulse, made sonderie sharpe approches. When many legges, and armes, by meane of the Mines fiue vp in the ayre, as though a tempest or whirle winde, had blowen a fewe feathers, or gotten vnder a loose bundell of Strawe: yea, the Mines at one tyme were so terribly sette on fire, and shaked a peeces (by a nomber of barrells of pouder) that you would [Page] haue thought it had Thondered, or the worlde had been at an ende, and the Iudgement daie had been come. So pitifullie the bodies and heddes of people fiue aboute the feeldes, for thereby the Cloudes were dimmed with gloumyng smoke and smother. A sight moste dreadfull to behold, and as a man might saie, a verie helle vppon yearth, where diuers bloodie wretches and Ruffians dooe dye, without any hope of heauen, or regarde of God.

Well, in this miserable maner and plight, the people of Mastricke continued full many a heauie daie and weeke, and yet alwaies the greatest losse fell on their enemies part, who neuerthelesse became so venterous and hardie, by this their hard Fortune: That thei were in a maner as desperate, as wilde Bulles, that neither cares for Dogges, nor shunneth no daunger. And in deede the Prince of Parmaes power, were become suche Tygers and Lyons, that thei thought no force could resiste their furie, nor no people could matche them in courage and valliauncie. Suche was the greatnesse of their myndes, and desire of worldely fame and glorie, the onely sturrer vp of stoutnesse in a Soldiours stomacke, and the principle poincte that a manne of warre careth for, and holdeth in reputation.

And in this pride and gallaunce conceipte of doyng what thei pleased, thei made no more of the losse of halfe a score Ensignes of menne, then of a handfull of Rushes, or a trusse of Hey. For when a thousande, or two thousande Soldiours were slaine at the assaulte, or at any peece of seruice, thei erected newe bandes, and furnished olde places with a present supplie of suche Nations, as would enter into wages, and though the long liyng in the colde, and keepyng of the cāpe, made bothe horse and manne stiffe as a stake, and a wearie of Winter weather. Yet would thei sette suche a shewe, and brauerie on the matter, as though thei had gone about some Sommer Maie game, or a Christmas pastyme, walkyng and sportyng before the Toune thei besieged: as thei had ron [Page] at the Basse, in a pleasaunte peece of grounde, and goodlie greene Meadowe. The maner wherof and boldnesse of that behauiour, made the lookers on that were in a pittefold (and peepyng out at a hole by stealth) thinke of straunge deuises, and haue many busie Bees in their heddes.

Now it happened through long besiegyng, many assaultes and greate Batteries, that the people of Mastricke wer so well acquainted with mischeefe and miserie, that eache thing was welcome, that Fortune (by Gods appointment) had sent, or by any occasion fell out. But alwaies with wisedome, labour, and pollicie, thei prepared to defende and prouided a nette and cunnyng trappe to deceiue their enemies, and when thei thought least of a Stratagime, thei should fall in daunger, and paie many a life for their pastyme. So the daie approched of a moste terrible assault (when the Toune was threatened to bee wonne) and the Campe stoode in battaill, the horse menne were mounted, the bloodie Ensignes were spread, and the Drommes and Trompettes sounded a slaunghter, and the Alarū was giuen. Then towardes the breache the Spanyardes began to marche, where thei were receiued with the poshe of the Pike, and the bullette of the Harcabooze, and fought withall verie noblie, a marueilous greate season, in so muche that the Spanyardes were likely with muche losse, to retire and be driuen backe. But as a greate storme beateth doune mightie Trees: And a strong streame driueth feeble fishe before it. So the power of the Spanyardes pearssed through the breache, and entered the Toune, and possessed a greate plotte of grounde, (whiche in deede was vndermined) and euen as thei thought all had ben their owne, fire was giuen to the traine of pouder, and twoo or three thousande of the Spanyardes side, were blowen as hye as the highest wall in the Toune: and therevpon the soldiours of Mastricke gaue a lustie charge on their enemies, and so draue nombers out at the breache, some with burnte faces, some with broken armes, some with haltyng legges, [Page] and verie fewe free of hurt, or vnmangled in some one place or other: and he that spedde beste retourned with rebuke, and escaped a blodie Butcherie. A heauie sight to beholde, and a thyng that Harlam often tymes before, had offered the duke of Aluaes Soldiours. But those that are bente to goe about worthie enterprises, refuseth no hazardes, nor waighes nothyng but the worthinesse of manhoode, and honour of their Prince, as here you maie perceiue by the Prince of Parmas Soldiours, who no terrour nor tormente, could turne from attemptyng the assault.

But yet after this broile and harde encounter, thei made more curtchie and tooke better aduisement, before thei wēt in hande with so greate a hazarde, and so dwellyng vpon deuises, and restyng on suche pollicies as might supprise the Toune: Thei made many signes of assaultes, and occupied poore people with diuers imaginations, whiles thei went about a Mine, and so to creepe in through a caue, and gette into the Toune by a Cloister, and house of Religion, whiche Mine couertly handeled, thei brought to passe (albeeit many tymes a coūter Mine was made against them) and hauyng doen that serued their purpose for to enter, and giue a generall assault, thei gaue the Alarum, and approched the breach (forgettyng not to arange their battailes, for the States had a power neere theim, and were likely to haue geuen an Alarum to the Campe) and whiles a fewe bandes made hedde to the breache, and a generall assaulte had besette the Toune rounde about. A great companie beyng in the Mine beganne to shewe them selues, and to sound Drommes and Trompetts, at the backes of those that defended the breach, who lookyng behind them, and espiyng the Ensignes of the Spanyardes, betooke theim selues sodainly to flighte, and leauyng the breache, ranne ouer the bridge to an other peece of the Toune. But the thronge was so greate, and the feare of death so muche emong the comon people, that all amased, and paste hope of life, stoode bothe man, woman, and child, [Page] that neuer sawe the like conflicte, nor could not shift for their liues. So some flange doune weapon, caste of their armour, held vp their handes to the heauens, smote their wofull breastes, and kneeled before the face and feete of their enemies, criyng for mercie, where little was to bee founde. And some ranne into cornes, Churches, Hospitalles, and emong Religious persones. But thei rather founde a sworde, then succour, and destruction soner then comfort, and happed in their hādes, that sought bothe blood and victorie: and had no more mynde of mercie (for a season till victorie was certaine) then the cruell Tygers haue when thei preye, and feede on little Lambes) thus hauyng victorie at will, and the toune in subiection. The Spanyardes followed so fast after the fleears, and fearfull discomfited people, that one of them ranne ouer an other: No one could neither helpe his self, nor succour his neighbour. So that wiues with children in their armes, and armed men beyng become childrē in crauyng of mercie, wer all a like serued. Where vppon is to be iudged, that yeldyng in extremite bryngeth death, or vtter seruitude, and hazardyng life for libertie, the sworde maie either make place to escape by, or sodainly bryng the dispatche that riddes menne from miserie, and puttes them from the rage of a tyraunte. For in fightyng eache partie standes in doubte (by whiche a manly minde is not conquered) and in yeelding the one part is maister, and the other made a captiue, and peraduenture a seruaunt to captiues, that neither can shewe sparke of pitie, nor dragme of good mynde. Wherefore in assaultes, in battailes, and matter of furie, manhood is to be vsed (of him that is moste in hazard) and mercie not to be hoped for, whē manhood abideth the vttermoste of Fortune, and hath doen their enemies the greatest despite thei can worke.

Thus followyng the poore people in Mastrick thei wer cleane voide of courage, or shifte to helpe them selues withall. The Toune was taken, wherein some Englishe menne were founde, whiche were lefte a liue of a bande that serued, [Page] whereof one maister Brooke was Capitaine, who was sore hurte ere he did yeelde: and whose companie serued all that siege so stoutly, that the Spaniardes feared them more, then double the nomber of the reste. Albeit the reste of Soldiours generally were giuen to stande to their defence: and so well defended the Toune, that was sharpely assaulted and besieged, as I haue not heard of. So that it is harde to iudge, whiche of the twoo sides deserued moste honour: the matter was so manly maintained on bothe the parties, with suche a resolute mynde and determination, to winne libertie, or lose life.

There wer after this siege some other seruices, but none so greate: nor none of theim I mynde to treate of as yet, for that I haue bente my studie, to pleasure the Readers of my booke, with other fancies, & varietie of matter. The change of matter, and maner of writyng thereof, I hope shall rather bryng delite, then breede wearinesse. For that whiche doeth presently followe, is sette out purposely with a nomber of deuises to occupie tyme withall, and pleasure them that hath any good disposition towardes the woorke.

FINIS.

¶A description or discourse, that declareth how that by tastyng of miseries, men become happie: written for that Soldiours alwaies beares the burthen of Sorrowe, and suffers more calamitie then any other people.

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GOod readers, for that calamitie and combersome chances, doe seeme intollerable too beare (and for our first fathers offence, thei are the burthens of life, and companions of man till the hower of his death) I beyng often charged with the heauie fardle of misfortunes: haue taken in hande to treate of a troubled mynde, and shewe what blessednesse and benefite to the bodie and soule this worldly infelicitie bryngeth.

As the common afflictions of mankynde are many in nomber, and seem at the first feelyng so irksome and weightie, that fewe can suffer them, or support them. So a multitude of miseries accustometh the minde so long, in the sharpnesse of sorrowes, that a sounde iudgemente is made the more able thereby, to abide the brunte of troubles: and attende for a short season a remedie of mischeeues, by proof [Page] the trothe of this is tried. For let the laboryng manne, or ordinarie porter (that daily carries greate burthens) be often vsed to lifte vp packes: he shall better beare a greate Logge, then an other that is fine fingered, shall bee able to heaue a small peece of Timber. And there is none that laboureth so sore, but is sure at one tyme or other, to attaine to reste and commoditie. So that all sorrowes are to be compted, but a sharpe sause to season the appetite, and bryng the sweete and delicate dishes in suche order, that it glutte not the stomacke.

And nowe to consider howe all pleasures are possessed, and profittes take their beginnynges. The verie issue and originall of those yearthly commodities, springes onely from continuall care and paine: and labourious vexation of bodie and mynde. The greatest glories, and cheefest seates of honour anywhere, are gotten and compassed by this kinde of calamitie, and the leaste or moste sparke of mannes delite is maintained (and at the lengthe enioyed) by the meane of studious labour, and painfull exersices.

But herein to be breef, paine and labour is the portion appoincted for man in his pilgrimage, and thei that are moste persecuted (so thei bee not tempted aboue their strength) are moste to be thought in fauour with God, and happiest emong men: if heauenly graces and correction, bee measured by the yearthly vessailes [Page] of vanitie, that we carry about, whiche without correction and refourmyng, would growe so full of filthe and corrupte maners, that thei neither could holde good liquor, nor serue to any good purpose.

Doe you not beholde that the purest mettall, with ill lookyng vnto, becommeth full of cankers and ruste: if it bee not scoured, rubbed and roghly handled, his beautie decaieth, and the worthe and vallue of it is little, because it hath loste his vertue and estimation. So mā nes corrupt Nature, were it not serched with sonderie instrumentes (that takes awaie the dedde fleashe, and toucheth the quicke) would putrifie, & waxe lothsome to the whole worlde and to the creature hym self, that beares it in his bowelles. And for the auoydyng of suche an inconuenience, calamitie muste bee tasted, and troubles are necessarie, for the keepyng cleane of a spotted conscience, and fraile bodie puffed vp with Pride, and vanitie of curious conceites.

And so I proue aduersitie, is the brynger home of good spirites, and gentill wittes, that wanders after worldly follies, and ronnes a gaddyng beyonde the boundes of measure, to the vtter confines of daunger and destructiō. Yea, a little trouble and tormente, produceth greate goodnesse, and bryngeth foorthe noble bookes, and goodly workes, whiche the libertie of life, and wantonnesse of pleasure, denies [Page] and hinders. As a thyng that drawes manne frō the couetyng of Fame, and true searchyng of immortalitie.

Mannes prosperous estate breedes but idelnesse, nourisheth vice, contempnes vertue, and banisheth good studies and learnyng: albeit some one emong the ritchest, at one season or other, maie looke on a booke, fauor writers and giue good speeches of well dooyng. Yet seldome comes any greate woorke from their handes that are in prosperitie. And none in a maner but the afflicted, did at any time hether to, yeelde benefite to their countrey: and generally knowledge the vniuersall worlde. Lette Socrates, Plato, Aristotoles, Cleantes, and a nōber of poore Philosophers (ye princes of education) bee witnesse of that I speake, from whiche Philosophers, the sowres of noble Artes and Sciences did spryng, and aboundantly flow.

The bodie pampered, bedecked with beautie, full of ornamentes, and sett out to sale like fleashe in the Shambelles: Either would bee bought quickly, or will be tainted in hangyng too long in the winde. So that as horses doe waxe reistie, for want of good vsage: and cleanest thynges taketh corruption, by lacke of lokyng vnto (in season). Pleasure and libertie in processe of tyme, makes a manne wilde, if callamitie tame not the bodie, & bryng the minde in willyng subiection.

Sorrowe, sadnesse, and other passions of [Page] this worlde, that comes by common causes, puttes the wittes and iudgemente to suche a plonge, (secrete shifte and pollecie) that all the senses openly makes a muster, to defende the estimation, and vpright bodie from fallyng, to the whiche assemblie comes Pacience, Reuerence and Modestie, that the matter is so wel taken, iniuries are putt vp, and wronges that haue been offered, woorkes in a wise hedde, a worlde of deuises, wherein vertue gettes victorie.

To beare the comfortable Crosse of persecution, is the true badge of blessednesse, wherby the seruaunt is seen to followe his maister, and all the vices of manne be maistered, or reformed by the crossyng chances of this world, and vertuous operation of callamitie, whiche miraculously worketh the distempered minde as the hotte Fornace tries out the Golde, and the warme fire bringes in temper, and makes softe the harde and coldest Waxe. A deuine secret to them that are chosen, and familiare example to those, that glories in worldly felicitie who knowes the naturall causes of yearthlie thynges.

If a manne might aske, wherefore was manne made, sent from the highest dignitie of pleasures, to this lowe dongion of sorrowes, and base soile of seruitude. It maie bee aunswered: Adam was thruste out of Paradice, for offence he had committed, and for that he [Page] was formed out of the yearth, on the face of the yearth he should get his foode and liuyng, as a vessell ordained to beare all maner of liquour, that is putte into it: and as a Creature condempned to taste and feele tormentes, sorrowes, and troubles: wherin man sees Gods mercie, and his owne infirmities. And refusyng to beare and suffer, what is laied vppon hym, he seemeth to holde an other course then God hath appoincted, and so seeketh that he can not attain. For since the yearth was cursed, it neuer could bryng forthe but cares, and greef of mynde: The onely fruite and painfull portion, that was from the beginnyng, prepared for all Adams children and posteritie.

Now some will replie and saie, that the rich and wealthy of the worlde, that maie wallow and toumble on their treasure: Haue builded suche bulwarkes against the assaultes of fortune, that no troubles can touche theim, nor make them yeeld to the common callamitie of our life, but who soeuer so thinketh, is vtterly deceiued. For ritches is not gotten nor kept, but with muche care and labour, and where it is possest, it bryngeth daunger, dread, disdain, and a thousande euilles with it: Temptyng manne to riot, and lasciuious liuyng, and leadeth the soule to perdition, by a nomber of infinite follies, except a speciall grace doe vphold it, it ronneth headlong into helle, and looketh seldome vnto heauen. And commonly when [Page] menne doe growe riche, thei surfette so often with Bankettes or bibbyng, that thei are full of diseases, and so shortens their daies.

Whiche libertie of life, and boldnesse in abuses (that sprynges on aboundance, the roote of disorder) puffes them vp in Pride, pampers them in pleasures, and blindeth so their iudgementes, that thei neither can se who deceiueth theim, nor finde out the right waie of heauenly felicite. And yet the flatterie of one, and falsehoode of an other aboute theim, breedeth suche businesse, & raiseth suche stormes (where quietnesse is looked for) that the ritche mannes house is neuer without blonder, brabble, and braulynges. So that vnder the calmeste shewes and ciuillest maners, lurketh terrible tempestes, and fearfull suspitions, whiche in that kinde is a domesticall callamitie, and miserie incurable.

And so all the iollitie and pōpe of the earth, (enioyed by enheritaunce, or purchased by fortune) are accompanied with pain, enterlarded with dolloure, and mixed with vnquietnesse, and maie bee compared to a rotten painted walle, that vnder faire collours, hath many a foule frette, whiche deceiueth the eyes of them that lookes on it: or giues those a great ouerthrowe that leaneth againste it. But this is no proofe that ritches is cause of sorrowe, but this rather shewes, that sorrowe, care, and many misfortunes doeth followe ritches, and [Page] pouertie (so it bee not bare indigence) is voide of hazard, free from fortunes mutabilitie, and coumpted moste happie, in comparison of the goodnesse that belongeth to a blessed life.

God, in beholdyng the vices of many, and sees some bente to esteeme villanie, or offence: doeth cut of their daies by sodaine mischaunces (or on a sette purpose, through the Deuine power) because their euill shall not hurte the good. And regardyng the other sort that will, or maie amende: leaues them to the touche of their consciences, with good respite and laysure to repent, sendyng them miserie, trouble, and disquietnesse onely as a restraint and bridell, to plucke theim from vices. And so callamitie maie bee accompted a precious purgation: and prosperitie maie bee iudged a Pestilente disease, whiche encreased, or begonne by disordered life, is rather to bee called a callamitie, and sicknesse of the soule, then a healthe of the minde, or good renowme to the bodie.

Many great personages, beyng ouercome with the casualties of this worlde, and mutabilitie of fortune, haue after their fall into persecution, taken all thynges in good parte, and made but smal adoe, nor account of their state when aduersitie approched, and been often times as glad to vse the libertie of mynde, in a seruile sorte, as thei were well pleased, when their bodies tooke moste pleasure, and had the worlde at commaundement. For of necessitie [Page] stormes followe calmes: and calamitie either laste or firste, dooeth visite an yearthly vessell. For some come to Kyngdomes from prison and induraunce, and some fall to miserie from wealth and honor, Dyonisius was glad to keepe a Schoole, after he had loste his Empire, and Andronico of Athens when his Countrey was subdued by the Romains, was faine to serue sondrie miserable Maisters: and after ledde a Lyon aboute Rome, to the ende of his daies. But though I brought a Tyraunte and an Infidell, to shewe that calamitie must bee tasted: so could I rehearse many Christen princes, that calamitie hath touched, and made thē as happie by those crosses thei haue borne, as some others are blessed that makes boaste, that haue neuer suffered torment.

Calamitie is like a suplyng salue that heales a sore Canker. A precious preseruatiue, to keepe the hed from furie of follie. A gentill medicine to reforme an infected conscience. A bitter draught of drinke: that pourgeth a stoute corrupt stomack: A sowre sirope or sauce that seasoneth a lewde appetite. And the sweete Salte of mannes felicitie, without the which no life can bee well seasoned.

Who feeles hymself afflicted, hath cause to conceiue he is not forgotten (where fauour is moste to be desired) and he that is let a lone, to followe his owne pleasure, walkes as a casteawaie, and hath nothing to reioyce of. For his [Page] badde spirite leades hym to destruction, and his good Angell hath forsaken his companie, whiche is a signe he is giuen ouer, to his noughtie inclinations, and is suffered to slide or fal doune right, when the afflicted by a speciall grace, is kept from stomblyng.

The Horse that findes the Bridell caste in his necke, ronnes out of order about the wild feeld: And suche as loueth lewde libertie, and will not bee brideled, good order ronnes from them, and foule reproche waites at their heeles. And if thei chaunce to happen in any hazarde, the sodainnesse of the mischeef breaketh their harte, or the wonderyng of the worlde, makes the wicked a wearie of his life. But suche as calamitie by custome hath reclaimed, taketh aduersitie, as a qualifier of cursed conditions, and beeyng content to kisse the Rodde of perturbation, are made children of promes, and inheritours of the lande thei haue long looked for.

So blessed be those babes then, who in the troble of their soules possesseth quietnesse, and makes a counte of calamitie, to bee the perfite waie and meane to felicitie & good happ. The feelyng of suche a scourge and visitation, lately sent a man that I knewe (who gatte great benefite by his trouble) made me write this little triflyng treatise of calamitie. So fare thou well good Reader.

Finis.

A pitefull complaint, in maner of a Tragedie, of Seignior Anthonio dell Dondaldoes wife, somtyme in the duke of Florences Courte: Translated out of Italian prose, and putte into Englishe verse.

[Page]

YOu wiues that wishe, to liue with worldes renowne,

And wisely waie, the worthe of precious fame,

Come heare the voyce, that giues a wofull sowne.

Come heare her tale, that dare not shewe her name,

Come Countrey youth, come noble courtly Dame.

And marke my woords, whose woorks in wondryng daies,

With double blotte, redounds to my dispraies.

From tender yeres, till twentie twoo were paste,

I nourisht was, at pompe and pleasures papps,

But who can tell, how long our ioye shall laste,

For greatest calmes, comes ofte to Thonder clapps,

And sweetest hopes, doe chaunge to sowrest happs.

O tickle tyme, that wanders swift as winde:

With heare before, and bare and balde behinde.

No gripe nor hande, can take sure holde on thee,

Thou flittst so faste, and leaues the worlde at worst,

[Page]Looke what tyme bryngs, tyme takes awaie you see,

Good tyme is blest, badd tyme wee holde accorst.

Tyme hurtes them oft, that tyme did helpe at forst,

Looke what we haue, when youth is moste in prime:

That shall wee want, in age by course of tyme.

My freashe delites, doe fall and fade like flowre,

The blossomes gaie, from beauties budds are gone,

Our state of life, doeth alter euery howre,

As pleasures passe, come sorowes pasyng on,

The worlde it self, is like a rowlyng stone.

And on suche wheeles, our tomblyng happs doe ronne:

Thei slide as swifte, as shadowe in the Sonne.

Whiles carelesse witte, doeth carry youth about,

(To sportes and plaies, that doeth from pasty meries)

The merrie mynde, is voyde of feare and doubt,

And all the powres, are glad to please the eyes,

But when wilde hedde, or wanton waxeth wise,

The weightie thoughtes, that deepe foresight retains,

Bryngs troubled sleepes, and breakes the quiet brains.

In childishe daies, I made no counte of chaunce,

When freends tooke care, to matche me to their will,

So hopyng long, good happ would me aduaunce,

I kept me free, from wedlocks boudage still,

But parents wise, that had good worldly skill.

With open checks, rebukt the causes cheef:

The more thei sturde, the greater grewe my greef.

As when a sore, is rubbde and handled harde,

The lesse it heales, because ye touche it neere:

O fathers graue, if that you tooke regarde,

How that with checks, you vse your children deere:

(Or in your moodes, you would some reason heere)

[Page]Thei should bee ioynde, where thei greate ioye should haue,

And you of them, enioye the thyng you craue.

But wilfull men (that wealth maie wrest awrie)

Will force poore babes, to marrie or to morne,

What father will, the child maie not denie,

He hurts his shins, against the pricke shall sporne,

When matche is made, it is paste tyme to torne.

When sillie Lambe, is to the slaughter ledde:

The Butchar braggs, the simple Sheepe is dedde.

And yet in deede, twere better childern smarte,

(And matche in tyme, as cause and matter moues)

Then childrens choyse, should breake the fathers harte,

Or breede debate, as wilfull marrage proues.

Short is the ioye, of them that longest loues,

When want comes on, and woe beginnes to wryng:

For lacke is thrall, and slaue to euery thyng.

Loue is not now, as loue hath been of old,

(A game some babe, to dandle on the knee)

Loue cares for nought, but lande and baggs of gold,

That keepes bothe man, and horse in stable free,

Thei haue no witte, that other louers bee,

Wealthe maister is, and porter of the gate:

That lettes in loue, when want shall come to late.

Well as it was, my freends could doe no good,

My Fortune bore, the swaie and ruled all,

And I full long, on will and freedome stoode,

Till fleshe and blood, must needes to fancie fall.

And then though happe, and worldly wealth was small,

I lighted where, I likte and loued well:

And where I voude, for terme of life to dwell.

[Page]

My choise was likte, for many giftes of grace,

He had, though wealth, somtyme was not at will:

And for his sake, in many a noble place,

I welcome was, and purchast fauour still.

My candell blasde, like torche on toppe of hill,

And for content, of minde where loue doeth reste:

Myne owne poore choise, might passe emong the beste.

Long liu'de we thus, at home and eke abroad,

When kindred cleane, in deede forsooke vs bothe,

What burthen fell, I helpt to beare the loade,

And glad in worlde, to taste how Fortune gothe.

The minde I had, to God and sacred othe,

Made me refuse, no trauaill for his sake:

Whom of free will, I choose to bee my make.

The seas wee sailde, the lande wee rode about,

The Court wee sawe, the Toune wee dwelt long in,

The feeldes we walke, the gardains gaie throughout,

Wee went vnto, where many a feast hath bin.

Wee could not sincke, for happe helde vp the chin,

He prosperde well, and looke what God had sent:

With louyng wise, at home the same he spent.

He tooke greate paines, to come by that he had,

And trauailde sore, through many a forraine soile:

To bryng that home, that makes the housholde glad,

And keepe the wife, and housholde folke from foile.

And I tooke care, that nothyng went to spoile,

And looke in deede, what thyngs that I did lacke:

Was seen in face, or founde vpon my backe.

The worlde might see, I went in garmentes good,

Though small I brought, to hym as I confesse:

I spent hym muche, and at greate charge he stoode,

[Page]Whiche bryngs strong harts, somtyme to greate distresse.

But neuer that, might make his loue the lesse,

For looke how he, his likyng first beganne:

In fine for trothe, he proude the self same manne.

I could not sleepe, but where in bedde he laie,

I could not eate, but where he satte at boorde,

I could not laugh, when likyng was awaie,

I silent satte, gaue he but halfe a woorde.

Ill newes of hym, strake me with mortall sworde,

His minde and myne, did drawe so in one yoke:

The self same fitts, he felt where of I spoke.

Full seuen yeres, this constant course wee kept,

Though often tymes, there happened housholde iarrs,

And trattlyng tales, that in betweene vs crept,

Made many wounds, where yet remaines the skarrs

Yet alwaies peace, tooke vp our braulyng warrs,

And wee did seeke, to salue eche others sore:

And passe old greefes, and thinke thereon no more.

Sweete is that peace, that patcheth vp greate harmes,

Sharpe is the warre, that teares a house in twaine:

Wo worthe those words, that brings in braules by swarms

Darke be those cloudes, that alwaies threatens raine.

Curste bee the cause, that breedeth woe and paine,

And dampde in hell, those subtell spirits shalbe:

That councell gaue, to parte my choise from me.

Well as our chaunce, together was to ioyne,

And dwell long while, as here in breef you harde:

So happe came on, (through hope of wealth or coyne)

And drewe my choise, where he might bee prefarde.

To warrs, and I, that had a greate regarde,

To hym that tyme, when I his mynde did knowe:

[Page]Gaue my consent, that he to warrs should goe.

With sighes and sobbs, and bitter tears emong,

Wee parted tho, with promes suerly paste:

That one should here, from other ere twere long,

And sadly soe, wee seured at the laste.

His goods, his gold, his freends bothe firme and faste,

He lefte me then to comfort me with all:

But nere a child, as Fortune so did fall.

He paste the seases, and sent me tokens still,

And money suche, as might supplie my neede:

And for to shewe, his faithe and greate good will,

Long letters large, he made that I might reede.

Of promes paste, and to come home in deede,

But to what ende, should serue this businensse greate:

My minde was toernd, warme loue had loste his heate.

A newe fine man, bothe yong and apt for chaunge,

I chose, and cleane, forgat my former ioye:

And in a while, I was become so straunge,

As hagard Hauke, that takes in hedde a toye.

And flees from Lure, and waxeth nice and coye,

My wedlocke now, not hearyng of these newes:

Made no haste home, till I was oer the shewes.

Yet knacks I wrought, to blear my housbandes eyes,

I made a brute, be blowne that I was dedde:

When that he heard, he did his life dispies,

And so forsooke, sleepe, reste, and taste of bread,

He rent his hear, he sadly shooke his head,

He walkt the woods, and shunned all repaire:

As one would be, deuourd with foulls of chaire.

He daiely bledd, when little foode he tooke,

[Page]He would not come, where women were in place:

And he so leane, and like a ghost did looke,

That Death it self, was seen amid his face.

A noble Erle, as he behelde this cace,

Brake with the man, that thus tormented was,

And so in sports, the troubled tyme did passe.

But Ague fitts, and sicknesse followde on,

That in poore plite, came home my housbande thoe:

Not leane in purse, but bare and neere the boen,

The bodie weake, was worne with warre and woe.

And yet full sounde, as all the worlde might knowe,

His limmes I sawe, but I so nice did waxe:

There was no flame, of fire might come to flaxe.

For I could weepe, and quenche by connyng arte,

The hottest loue, that euer housbande bore:

And so twoo yeres, I plaied a Foxes parte,

Whiche ere I dye, I maie repent full sore.

My housbandes bedde, I shond, and furthermore,

I fainde I had, a sicknesse let it goe:

I neuer mynde, that follie forthe to showe.

A finer tricke, to compasse that I sought,

I plaied through sleight, and castyng figures trim:

To my good man, a bastard girle I brought,

And from my freend, presented her to hym.

He sawe thereby, the flood ronne oer the brim,

Yet kept it close, and saied nothyng at all:

Till out by chaunce, might further matter fall.

And alwaies would, my housbande tell me plaine,

I did hym wrong, to keepe me from his bedde:

But I could vse, hym in a pleasaunt vaine,

And make hym soone, forget that he had sedde.

[Page]My dore was lockt, how ere I laied my hedde,

My maids and I, kept solempne cheare alone:

How euer plaine, poore housbande made his moue.

Twoo yeres this wise, I shifted Cardes full cleane,

Till housbande spied, a letter of my hande:

Whereby he founde, what follie I did meane,

But I was bent, against my deede to stande.

So faest hym doune, and swore when all was scande,

It was not myne, but as he soundly slept:

To his bedds side, my maied and I wee stept.

And heaude hym vp, and so from bolster than,

Wee tooke his purse, wherein the letter laye:

When that wee had, wee lefte the sillie man,

As saffe as he, that sleepes in cocke of haie:

Well, when he lookt, in purse the other daie,

And founde my fraude, and falshed as it was:

Out of the dore, in furie did he passe.

Yet came againe, that night and so fell sicke,

(The cause whereof, sone after you shall heer)

Full long he laie, and toucht so neere the quicke,

That he was like, to bye that sicknesse deer.

But when on foote, he stept and all was cleer,

He badde farewell, false wife God sende thee grace:

Thy wicked waies, makes housbande giue thee place.

I sawe how worlde, would wonder on this acte,

And streight newe tales, on housbande gan I raise:

With forged lyes, and railyng reasons rackt,

That still should sounde, vnto his moste dispraise.

I fainde one while, he vsed wanton waies,

With euery maied, that he might touche or see:

And then he was, to sicke a soule for me.

[Page]

Then poore he was, I saied to cloke my pride,

When this serude not, I swore the man was madd,

And in his rage, would beate me backe and side,

So euery daie, a newe deuice I hadd.

To make the worlde, beleeue he was to badd,

And at the length, when all I had was sold:

My maied and I, goe trie the worlde we wold.

So shuttyng dore, and trussyng vp my packe,

I flang from home, not biddyng freends farewell:

But I had not, no sooner tournde my backe,

But housbande heard, how all this matter fell.

And yet a lone, a while he let me dwell,

Till that he sawe, I was so farre paste shame:

I caerd not what, became of honest name.

In deede the house, where I my residence made,

With lustie ladds, was haunted euery owre:

And I had those, that well could tosse the blade,

To take my parte, if housbande gan to lowre.

His freends were weake, and I with strongest powre,

Beganne to bragge, and threaten hym full sore:

And had preparde, a bloudie bande therefore.

I sought to bryng, my brethren to this braull,

But thei were wise, and would no quarrell take:

And puttyng of, the harms that might befall,

Thei wisely wrought, a freendly peace to make.

But euer I, good councell did forsake,

And thought to make, my housbande hide his hedde:

Or practise still, till he poore man were dedde.

Yet in a moode, when least I lookt therefore,

He came and tolde, me all was muche amis:

Where at I cried, alas and loude I rore,

[Page]For neighbours helpe, who quickly hearyng this.

Came thrustyng in, as ofte the maner is,

How now good folke, ꝙ he with bended brow:

Twene man and wife, dare you be sticklars now.

No in good faithe, ꝙ thei and so retierd,

But still I lookt, for other succour there:

And for that thyng, that housbande then desierd,

I tooke no care, I ment a further feare.

To bryng hym in, yet maied in giuyng eare,

To honest woords, fell doune on knees at laste:

And pardon craued, for priuie knaurie paste.

My housbande then, forgaue her and tooke leaue,

In hope my minde▪ would gentill waxe thereby:

But I that ment, my housbande to deceaue,

In better place, beganne a greater crie.

Where women were, that markt my weepyng eye,

And though in deede, I had been handled ill:

So staied me there, perforce emong them still.

My housbande swore, I should receiue no harme,

And home againe, I should be saffely brought:

But I had taught, the women suche a charme,

Thei would not then, depart from me for nought.

That could be saied, thus he like waxe was wrought,

And tempred so, that home without his wife:

He went awaie, the more my shamelesse life.

When shamefaste lookes, forsooke my modest face,

I waxt so bolde, I blusht no more then blocke:

Then clapt on robes, of gaie vainglories grace,

With collours faire, to paint a foule blacke stocke.

Yet calde I was, a Hen for eche good Cocke,

A morsell sweete, a whetstone fine forsothe:

[Page]To sette on edge, on euery daintie tothe.

I carde not how, my housbande murthred were,

By Magicks force, or any Deulishe arte:

I shonde his sight, and presence eurie where,

As one that lodgde, disdaine in hatefull harte.

And still I plaied, full many a silthie parte,

To rid hym hence, and take awaie his life:

Who God preserude, to plague a paltryng wife.

And for to hide, those brain sicke prancks of mine,

I had a knacke, to breake the matrage bande:

And so a dragme, or draught of poison fine,

I did deuise, to happ in housbands hande.

And as that cuppe, on tables ende did stande,

With feruent thirst, he came and so it raught,

And in that heate, dranke of the mortall draught.

When giltie harte, should make my face to blushe,

I braude it out, in silks and Veluetts gaie:

And caerd not what, worlde saied of me a rushe,

For I tooke tyme, ere tyme would weare awaie.

(At gracelesse games, and many a shamelesse plaie)

And sowyng seeds, that Nettle flowers brought forthe:

I reapt but weeds, or thistles nothyng worthe.

I ruffled long, when housbande barely went,

And facest hym out, in streate or ciuill toune:

My freends did force, the man to stande content,

It was no boote, to striue or sweare me doune.

For I had made, the worlde on hym to froune,

And raisde a brute, that he was bedlem madd:

Thus loe of hym, the conquest still I hadd.

My haunt was suche, emong the noblest sort,

[Page]That I was calde, a sober Sibill sage:

And worthie witts, would builde on my report,

For I knewe how, to flatter eurie age.

And alwaies wrought, to make my housbande rage,

Whereby his life, in hazard, hard might fall:

And I the while, ronne cleane awaie with ball.

I loude not one, but lusted after all,

The puddell foule, was fittest for a gigge:

The Fountaine faire, did drinke like bitter gall,

In filthie mudde, I wallowde like a pigge.

About the streats, was gaddyng gentill rigge,

With cloes tuckt vp, to sette badd ware to sale:

For youth good stuffe, and for old age a stale.

A louyng looke, could make a Gudgeon bite,

A fiue dugard, could fetche in scolles of fishe:

A cunnyng knacke, could stirre vp cold delite,

A glittryng girle, could feede a wantons wishe.

And who doeth not, desire a daintie dishe,

Whose sugred taste, breeds secret eger moode:

That faine would feede, and finds moste fearfull foode.

I could in streate, besturre and stretche my limmes,

As though some sprite, were [...]der outward showe:

Who angleth not, for fishe that smothly swimmes,

At pleasant marke, who doeth not bende the bowe.

Small shaftes are shotte, at many a carraine Crowe,

Then if faire birdes, doe happ to come in waie:

Blame not the Hauke, that maks of foule a maie.

Not beautie here, I claime by this my talke,

For browne and blacke, I was God blesse the marke:

Who calls me faire, doeth scarce knowe cheese frō chalke,

For I was formde, when Winters nights were darke.

[Page]And Natures woorks, tooke light at little sparke,

For kinde in scorne, had made a mould of Iette:

That shone like cole, wherein my face was sette.

Three yeres I stra [...]ed, like waffe that waxeth wilde,

Twoo more at least, I laie from housbands bedd:

And all this while, I vsde hym like a childe,

For at no tyme, I neither wrate nor sedd.

Ne sent to hym, suche toyes I had in hedd,

That stomacke stiffe, thought not to stoupe a whit:

For stubborne Colt, in teeth had got the bit.

He let me runne, oer hedge, oer hill and dale,

And would not plucke, the raines of bridell backe:

I could tell why, but thereby hangs a tale,

Would make me blushe, and shewe of grace greate lacke.

I had my will, whiles all thyng went to wracke,

What needs more wordes, I ranne so rude a race:

I neuer thought, againe to turne my face.

What sleight scapes free, from subtell searchyng hedde,

What wit works not, to serue leawde womens wiells:

What practise flies, the foile of stained bedde,

What is not wonne, with woords or worldly giells.

What will not yeeld, and [...]ne where Fortune smiells,

What tyme is loste, to gaine that women craue:

And all proceeds, from wa [...]ward will we haue.

If that wee loue, the furie lasts not long,

If once wee hate, [...]ut malice hath no [...]lde:

If that wee minde, to offer housbande wrong,

Wee want no witte, the quarrell to defende.

Our stubborne harte, hath rather breake then bende,

And custome hath, emong vs made suche lawse:

That all our sexe, will take one part and cause.

[Page]

And where the floud, and streame of strife doeth ronne,

In comes the Tide, of daiely troubles greate:

Yea where a storme, or braule is once begonne,

All bitter blasts, repairs and breathes out heate.

The eyes will stare, the face will froune and sweate,

The tong must clapp, the hedde will shake and nodd:

And harte with in, hath cleane forgotten God.

Freends must be wrought, with blades to bande it out,

Fose must be whippt, and scourged in their kinde:

Worlde shalbe toste, and tourned rounde about,

Still to maintaine, the mischeef of the minde.

Tale bearars then, shall lye within the winde,

To bryng badde newes, and set the house a fier:

That flaemd before, with sparks of spietts desire.

My practise straunge, can all these plaeggs vnfolde,

That better were, lappt vp in silence here:

To late to call, againe that tong hath tolde,

The wise should sell, their words and worship deere.

But since in worlde, my self I can not cleere,

I will goe through, this heauie tale of myne:

That worlde maie well, at wicked waies repine.

Long after this, he heard that I laye sicke,

And then from Court, he coms with right greate speede:

To comfort me, that was bothe sounde and quicke,

To plaie the Foxe, or knaue againe for neede.

But though that tyme, I would not bee agreede,

I tooke his wine, and sent hym so awaie:

With scorne enough, in signe of partyng daie.

For since that tyme, he neuer sawe my face,

Nor had no mynde, to come where was my haunt:

And since that storme, I had so little grace:

[Page]In eurie soile, I make my boste and vaunte,

I conquerd hym, and so I doe you graunte.

For three yeers more, I haue doen what I please:

And lidde at large, in luste and lordlie ease.

And these fiue yeres, I haue doen what I can,

By tong and arte, and figuers that I caste:

And eurie waie, to shame my plaine good man,

Whiche shame I feare, will sure be myne at laste.

I am so learnd, I can plaie louse and faste,

My skill is suche, in Planetts hye and loe:

I ruell the Skies, and Heauens where I goe.

Good Fortunes sure, some saie that I can tell,

And many thyngs, by figures I vnfolde:

I saie no more, but wishe that all were well,

For he that doeth, this wicked worlde beholde.

Whose Godhed seeth, into this massie molde,

Knowes well how ofte, I tread my shue a wrie:

And in what plite, my synfull soule doeth lye.

And if this God, regard with angrie cheere,

The vice on yearth, that vainly we committe:

And straitly looke, vnto my doyngs heere,

And like a Iudge, in tremblyng conscience sitte.

I am condempd, there serus ne force nor witte,

Out is my Lampe, the oile hath loste his light:

And my faire daie, is tornd to foule blacke night.

The searchyng hedds, that sifts my maners throwe.

Will shrinke a side, when I drawe neere their vewe:

The wievly daems, that seeth my blotted browe,

In my behalfe, will blushe and chaunge their hewe.

The gentill harts, that others harms doeth rewe,

Will muche lament, my life so leawdly ronne:

[Page]And cleane vntwiste, the threede good name hath sponne.

The baseste dame (whose faults are borne in breste)

Will scorne to heare, my follie blasde abrode:

The fromppyng flocke, at me will make a ieste,

The spitfull swarme, will poult and swell like Tode.

My giltie mynde, that bears moste heauie lode,

Will sinke doune right, when worlde shall talke of grace:

And shame her self, will slubber all my face.

The sober sorte, that setts by noble brute,

Will shake their hedds, as thei my boldnesse spie:

The clappyng tongs, will neuer sure be mute,

Shreawd people all, will shewe alowryng eye.

But still I feare, the Lorde that sitts on hye,

Will looke more straunge, on me so late disgraste:

Then all the worlde, that here beneath are plaste.

The Churche wherein, bothe faithe and hande I gaue,

Shall witnesse beare, of breache of promes due:

The spousall bedde, and marrage daie so braue,

Shall make me cald, forsworne and moste vntrue:

The holie booke, the old lawe and the newe,

Against my soule, shall sure sharpe sentence giue,

In other worlde, where sprite desiers to liue.

Let matrons chaste, and modest wiues eche one,

That falshed haets, and lou's their trothe to keepe:

In furie come, and flyng at me a stone,

And let no wight, my death bewaile nor weepe.

Let daies vnrest, and dreadfull dreams in sleepe,

Pursue me still, and bryng me to my graue:

Since God and man, I so offended haue.

The stepps I tread, shall tell me my offence,

[Page]The feelds I walke, shall bryng my fault to minde:

The harms I did, in worlde shall haste me hence,

The wealthe I wishe, shall waste and weare with winde.

The fame I seeke, shall flyng me farre behinde,

And all good things, that vertues wiues enioye:

At my moste neede, shall tourne to myne anoye.

The wise that waies, my wiells in ballance right,

Shall see my witte, want weight and be but bace,

The foole hymself, shall finde my iudgement light,

In makyng choise, to chopp and chaunge my cace.

The poore shall point, at me in eurie place,

The riche and those, that swaie and rule doeth beare:

With curbe of Lawe, shall bryng leawde life in feare.

The freends I had, shall frowne and shunne my sight,

The foes I haue, shall followe me with shame:

The neighbour loue, that pleasd me daie and night,

Shall now drawe backe, and looke on losse of name.

The merrie mate, and homely countrey dame,

And all the toune, and soi [...]e where I was borne:

In Parishe Churche, shall laugh my life to scorne.

The bande once broke, that God hymself hath bleste,

Bryngs worldly woe, and cursses in by swarmes:

The marrage marde, that God made for mans reste,

Turns vpside doune, from happie helpe to harmes.

The Bridall bedde, defield with lothsome charmes,

Breeds wicked smoke, and smothryng sclanders blase:

On whose foule fume, a worlde of people gase.

The knotte of loue, vnknitt by hatefull cause,

Caulls greeffs to count, and cries to clouds for aied:

The leuwd contempt, and breache of sacred lawes,

Maeks eurie howre, offendour sore afraied.

[Page]The fickle faithe, that is with skurges paied,

Bidds falshed flie, the plague that is preparde:

For those who looks, to life with small regarde.

No rofflyng troupe, that swashe and swill vp wine.

Can ward the blowes, that wrathe of God sends doune:

No cunnyng knacks, nor knackyng fetches fine,

Can conquer trothe, and thrust hym out of toune.

No treasons traine, can take waie true renoune,

No cloud can cloke, the crafte that all men findes:

No salue but grace, can heale infected mindes.

My hollowe harte, hath loste the hope I had,

What dropps in now, doeth doubt and daunger bryng:

In housbands ears, I spake that made me glad,

With newfounde freends, I talke that mak's me wryng.

The first good will, from vertuous loue did spryng,

The laste delite, and all that since fell out:

Began on luste, and needs must ende in doubt.

Now open streats, by Oule flight must I walke,

And secret nouks, and shifts must shadowe sleight:

Except I care, not what the worlde doeth talke,

And minde to frame, a crooked matter streight.

And then though pride, holds hedde a wonders height,

Shame plucks doune harte, and mak's me blushe at laste:

But well awaie, that signe of grace is paste.

Though in the teeth, I haue the bridell gote,

And that I run, beyond my riders reache:

I dare not syng, in quere to hye a note,

For feare of checke, and tuter doe me teache.

I plaie boe peepe, least people me appeache,

I seem a sainct, when deulishe thyngs I meane:

Yet muche adoe, I haue to carrie cleane.

[Page]

O wretched change, that bryngs repentaunce ofte,

O bitter sweete, whose taste deceiues vs all:

O poisoned luste, that puff's vp pride a lofte,

O graclesse game, full farcst with sugred gall.

O trippyng trust, that swiftly giu's a fall,

O spitfull sport, that spends thy youth in shame:

And bryngs thine age, in horrour and deffame.

O greedie will, that gaines but greef of minde,

O gnawyng worme, that fretts the conscience still:

O wicked arte, that striks the senses blinde,

O madde deuice, that tourns from good to ill.

O leawd desire, more hotte then Eathna hill,

O beastly blisse, begun on balde confaite:

And doeth bewitche, them all that bites the baite.

O paultryng plaie, and pinishe pastyme vaine,

O slidyng ioye, that sincks where suertie swims:

O perlous toye, and pleasure mixt with paine,

O Peacocke proude, that still fonde feathers trims.

O lustie bloud, naye wanton lothsome lims,

That stoups to filthe, and costly carrein gaie:

That giu's▪ badd gold, and stealls good name awaie.

My merrie maetts, and minsyng minions fine,

Speaks faire a while, to winne their leawd desire:

But wilely worlde, can let me starue and pine,

And for reward, can giue a floute or flire.

So lead me on, and leaue me in the mire,

And blabb all out, that hath been closly wrought:

O pranks of youth, O painted thyng of nought.

O puddell foule, that seems at first full faire,

O cause of care, and source of sorrowe sowre:

O deadly hope, and grounde of deepe despaire,

[Page]O pleasaunt weede, and stinckyng rotten flowre.

O rauenyng Wolues, that doeth poore wiues deuoure,

O smilyng theeues, that robbs the chastest harte:

O traiterous tongs, that can plaie Iudas parte.

You laied your trains, as Foulars laies his nette,

You bosome Snak's, your styng hath me vndoen:

By louyng you, at length what shall I gette,

When you me lothe, where shall the caste of ron.

Wo worth that wight, that woyng first begon,

Curste be the craft, that causeth clamours [...]yes:

And vengance fall, vpon your staryng eyes.

A plague consume, your songs and suttell suets,

A wildfire catche, your combrous knauishe brains▪

A murrein take, your foule vntymely fruets,

A cancker eate, your hands and azure vains.

The Haggs of hell, reward you for your pains,

Bothe pen and ynke, and all that helpt des [...]re:

(And you your selues) I wishe in flamyng fire.

Fie on your scroulls, and Pistells full of lyes,

An Oten strawe, for all your stately stiells:

Your frisled hear, and naughtie newfounde gies,

Your lordly looks, your simpryng shamlesse smiells.

Your wanton talke, and priuie winckyng wiells,

I here bequeath, to Sathan and his crue:

Good fellows fitte, for suche false ladds as you.

You are the frothe, and skum of worlds delite,

The dallyng whelps, that can with feathers plaie:

Of mischefs all, the marke, the butte, and white,

The iollie Frie, that follows flood eche waie.

The gallant flocke, the stately starrs of daie,

The busie Bees, that can no Honie make:

[Page]But spoilars of, eche fruit and flowre ye take.

The waityng doggs, that bite before thei barke,

The couchyng currs, that snatche at eurie flie:

The figboies fine, that Iuggels in the darke,

The c [...]nnyng crue, that at receit can lie.

The sookyng sponge, that draws faire fountains drie,

The greedie hounds, that follows eurie game:

The blott and staine, of eche good womans name.

A robe or ryng, or triflyng token vare,

You giue for that, you neuer can restore▪

Then are you gone, you haue your wished fare,

In straunger streams, you loue to stere your Ore.

If honest wiu's, but knewe your prancks before,

Thei would as sone, see of your suttell hedds:

As by your drifts, goe staine their housbands bedds.

In marrage house, is freendly fastnesse found,

Though fare be meane, content fills vp the dishe:

In bordell bowre, sweete banketts are vnsound,

Though dainties there, wee haue at will and wishe.

At home wee take, in worth cold fleshe or fishe,

For warme good will, doeth season so she there:

That with small [...]oste, wee banket all the yere.

A broad wee sit, as though wee were a fearde,

And scarce dare feede, or talke for taunts and nipps:

At home wee rule, in spite of housbands bearde,

And plaie the Cooke, and so maie li [...]ke our sipps.

A broad for nought, our tong is tame in tripps,

And then greate harte, can neither drinke nor eate:

Thus dere is bought, a broad our borrowde meate.

Looke what is saied, [...]n home in clothe is lappe,

[Page]There speeche is free, and honest sports wee vse:

O well a waie, that this misfortune happt,

And that I did, my housbande so abuse.

That I haue brought, my self into a muse,

Loste home thereby, loste God and good mens praies:

And now must run, a gaddyng all my daies.

A plague moste fitte, for them that vse to change,

A scourge wherein, the wrathe of God is seene:

A staffe of strife, for pilgrime nothyng strange,

A bleedyng wounde, that mak's my sorrowe greene.

A sore rebuke, for witts that ouer weene,

A heauie crosse, and sent me for the noens:

To breake my will, and yet to bruse no boens.

But since my will, did weaue this wofull webbe,

That needs must make, a weede for wantons weare:

And that my flood, is like to fall to ebbe,

By want of will, that ought lowe saile to beare.

To punishe soule, that els some other where,

Might suffer smart, I vowe in hande to take:

A better life, and so false worlde forsake.

Awaie proude pompe, and costly garments nice,

Come mournyng goune, and clothe the carefull wight:

Awaie vaine showes, and open signes of vice,

Come vertue now, and giue my Lampe more light.

Come Sommers daie, adue darcke Winters night.

I loue to liue, and looke about me farre:

When wound is heald, tyme maie amende the scarre.

Awaie yong Frie, that giu's leawd councell nowe,

Awaie old trotts, that setts yong fleshe to sale:

Awaie foule slutts, whose filth did blot my browe,

Awaie trim tongs, that near told honest tale.

[Page]Awaie bold beasts, whose brabble bred my bale,

Awaie rude Wasps, you stong me through the brest:

Goe hide your hedds, and let me liue in reste.

Awaie wilde giggs, that bounceth like a topp,

Awaie came lours, that faune like whelps for nought:

Awaie light hedds, that lou's to chaunge and chopp,

Awaie fine witts, that many mischeu's wrought.

Awaie slee Snak's, that my destruction sought,

Awaie false shreaws, that neuer none maie trust:

But suche leawd girls, as are begilde by lust.

Awaie faire speeche, that me bewitcht to long,

Awaie foule woorks, that filde my face with blurrs:

Come home poore sence, that ledde my fancie wrong,

And packe from me, you priuie bityng currs.

That sticketh still, together like wilde burrs,

And where ye touche, ye bryng awaie the wull:

So from fine clothe, pure honest name ye pull.

Tis tyme to looke, how good reporte was loste,

And prop vp house, that now is nere to fall:

A wretched brute, flies through the ayre in poste,

A whirlyng winde, maie come and tripp doune all.

And though I liste, not come at housbands call,

I maie not flie, from God and followe man:

That still deuours, like Wolfe what sheepe he can.

The sweetest wine, at length will waxe full sowre,

It prou's sharpe sauce, that once had sugred taste:

Fonde fancies freaks, will fade as faste as flowre,

And wantons loue, with sports will weare and waste.

When hard in arm's, newe commers are embraste,

Farewell old freend, goe plaie you where you wull:

The hauke hath praid, the Haggards gorgs is full.

[Page]

Loue staies not long, it is but one yeers birde,

A foolishe fitte, that mak's wilde witts goe madde:

A gallant Colte, that ronneth for a girde,

A lime rodde fine, to catche a lustie ladde.

A youthfull prancke, that mak's age looke full sadde,

A merrie mate, so long as money lasts:

Good for a flight, then of her bells she casts.

Loue tarries not, it is a postyng game,

That hath suche haste, it goes wee knowe not where:

Now faire and fatte, then crooked leane and lame,

Now plaies boe peepe, now fiskyng here and there.

Now balde as Coote, now trim with fresled heare,

Now gaie and glad, now shreawd and scarce well pleasd:

Now sounde as Chicke, now sicke and sone diseasd.

With dallyng mutche, loue will be easly tierd,

When loue is cloied, the toile at gresse must ronne:

When hoofe is whole, the hackney maie be hierd,

When corne is solde, the markett cleane is donne.

It ends with hate, that was with loue begonne,

It maie be loth'd, that long on likyng laie:

Luste lacks no wings, when loue will flie awaie.

Loue must haue change, to season sweete delite,

Lou's mynde will range, like Spaniell in the feelde:

Loue lookes like Doue, when she will proue a Kite,

Loue seeks to rule, she hath no minde to yeelde.

Loue will haue scope, loue is restrained seelde,

If loue lacke ought, she showes a lowryng eye:

And then for nought, the babe will pule and crie.

Loue must be kolld, and kissed round about,

Loue must goe gaie, and painted like a poste:

Loue must be peecst, and patcht with many a clout,

[Page]Loue is a sprite, a shadowe or a ghoste.

A needlesse charge, that seldome quitts the coste.

A practise bought, with many a threede bare purse:

A wretched blisse, that I and myne maie curse.

It is the skum, and onely drosse of youth,

That bryngs bothe soule, and bodie in decaye,

A kinde of taske, wherein there is no truth,

A Courtyng trade, that doeth muche crafte bewraie.

A wilie Foxe, a wanton full of plaie,

A sainct to showe, a Deuill God he knose:

That me betraied, and made me freedome lose.

The Horse ronns farre, that neuer tourns againe,

The beaten child, is learnd to feare the rod:

The double minde, maie fall to meanyng plaine,

Thei maie a mende, that feels the feare of God.

The clouds maie cleere, that long hath threatned raine,

The tyme ill spent, if reason will redeeme:

Calls home wilde witts, from toyes that are extreeme.

Youth tak's his course, and follows fancies freaks,

Age all reforms, and sore repents tyme paste:

The bowe long bent, ye knowe in processe weaks,

Hard thyngs at first, maie gentill waxe at laste.

Who often faulls, is taught to stande full faste,

And fewe there are, but slieds or falls doune right:

In youth or age, our iudgements are so light.

When witte is bought, (and follie throughly waied,)

An vnce of skill, is worthe a pounde of drosse:

Till bodie smarte, the minde is neuer staied,

Gaine is not likte, till we haue tasted losse.

Some saie eche one, is borne to beare his crosse,

My heauie faults, now burthens breast so sore:

[Page]That heare or hence, I must be scourgd therefore.

Sweete are those stripps, that breaks ne bone nor lim,

(And yet setts sound, the soule and bodie bothe:)

Sowre are those ioyes, and worldly braurie trim,

That doune to hell, with dampned people gothe.

Sweete are sharpe woords, that tells leawd life the trothe,

Sowre is sweete sause, that cloyes the stomacke still:

Sweete are those nipps, that doeth restraine the will.

The pampred horse, that still in stable stands,

Will ware a iade, if spurre ne wande he taest:

The wildest Colt, is tam'd by riders hands,

And so through bitte, is made well traind and paest,

All hedstrong thyngs, are not reformd in haest,

But when regard, looks backe where blindnesse went:

The perrill paste, bides pompe and Pride repent.

Greate is the scope, that greedie will desiers,

Small gaine or grace, doeth growe by gaddyng out:

With heauie lode, the wearie leggs retiers,

And hartfull fraught, of worldly dread and dout.

And sure the ground, from whence all vice doeth sprout,

Is gaddyng geres, that lovs a broad to gase:

Who shame sends home, in greate sadde muse and mase.

And when in dores, dame dalliance close is [...],

And noets what blot, she did escape without:

She thinks in streate, she put her name to pawne,

Or went abroad, to plaie the bare banckrout.

Where wanton eyes, did naught but stare about,

Where all a flant, at full like shippe with saile:

Fine minions marche, as braue as Pecockes taile.

The croked backe, must bolstred be by arte,

[Page]The taunie skinne, must shine by some trim knacke:

The twinklyng looks, for sport must plaie their parte,

The perwicks fine, must curle where hear doeth lacke.

The swellyng grace, that fills the emptie sacke,

And iettyng pace, with limes stretcht out full streight:

To patche out pride, are matters of greate weight.

Then fie on all, suche trashe and tromprie vile,

That setts forthe shaeds, in Sonnie daie to shine:

My youth is paste, I can not worlde begile,

Men will not looke, for babes in hollowd eyen.

A witherd grape, hangs now on rotten vien,

From blasted branche, the berrie round is gone:

A doskie glasse, is little lookt vpon.

Wherefore I vowe, to weare a sorie vaile,

To shrowd the face, that feaw or none will like:

And get some shell, to holde in hedde like Snaile,

For former faults, in conscience so doeth strike.

That I doe feare, I shall my self mislike,

If shadowes doe, not cloke defects I haue:

Or death dispatche, and sende me to my graue.

Now note my tale, you dames of gentill blood,

Now waile with me, all suche as plaies my parte:

Now let my harms, doe harmlesse people good,

Now bid all wivs, defie this deulishe arte.

For my consaite, is suche a deadly darte,

That where I goe, or walke in any place:

Me thinks my faults, are written in my face.

FINIS.

A heauie matter of a Englishe gentleman, and a gentlewoman, in maner of a Tragedie: whiche gentlewoman called her freende the wanderyng Prince.

[Page]

THE wandryng Prince, whiche ran the restlesse race,

Had muche a doe, to trie this froward fate:

And I poore man, that doeth supplie his place,

In pilgrims porte, maie waile my wofull state.

To Gods and men, the storie now I tell,

That iudgement haue, to marke my matter well:

Bothe lande and seas, as farre as wandrer goes,

(And worlde so wide) my sokyng sorrowe knoes.

In natiue soile, where long I fostred was,

A make I chose, to leade my life with all:

From whom at length, I wandryng Prince did pas,

For causes greate, that tournd my sweete to gall.

Suffice to thinke, some fire did raise the smoke,

That made me flie, and shunne from marrage yoke:

Some piuishe pranck, some padde laied in the strawe,

That forced feers, thus seurall waies to drawe.

A wretched happ, betid's betweene them twaine,

[Page]That parts in haste, where long the loue was bent:

An open plague, a pinchyng priuie paine,

Is felt and founde, where suche mishapp is sent.

The house decaies, the credite cracks with all,

And doune full flatte, doeth eche good Fortune fall:

And of renowme, the propps and pillars shak's,

And babblyng tongs, there on a wonder mak's.

Let sleepe some harms, my muse must now awake,

To blase the broills, that wandryng life did bryng:

Who goes from home, and doeth a iourney take,

Full little knowes, where doeth the saddell wryng.

Till bityng greefs, bewraies a secret sore,

As sone as man, setts foote on forraine shore:

A mischeef streight, doeth meete hym full in face,

As welcome fitte, for men from forraine place.

As straungers here, somtymes haue gazers on,

And Crowes with Kietts, doe seldome well agree:

So home bred birds, from hence no soner gon,

In countrey straunge, full sone oermatched bee.

First finesse coms, and fram's some fashon newe,

To catche wilde hauks, or cast tame birde in mewe:

Then falshed fliers, and plaies the wilie Foxe,

With gaddyng foote, that faste is in the stoxe.

The traular tasts, more toile then tong can tell,

More troublous tyms, than trothe maie well report:

Wants heuens blisse, and feeleth more of hell,

Then all the souls, that to this worlde resort.

The Camell bears, a burthen greate you knowe,

The Asse likewise, doeth not vncharged goe:

But neither beast, nor nothyng name you maie,

Surmounts the pains, of wandryng Prince I saie.

[Page]

My deastnie drewe, my daies to dolefull date,

Desire to see, strange realms bred myne vnrest:

For where I thought, in suretie saffe I sate,

Farre from my freends, I found my self distrest.

In daunger oft, and feare of mortall foe,

I daiely paste, betweene the stryng and boe:

No hazard here, on yearth that men maie finde,

But there to me, blinde deastnie had assignde.

My life was sought, and freedome loste I long,

Compeld to stoupe, where God was scarcly knowne:

Denied of right, and forste to suffer wrong,

And plainly spoild, of that whiche was my nowne.

In hockstars hands, where lawe was made of will,

(And hauocks mouthe,) I daiely hapned still:

Now drownd in dread, and wishyng greedie graue.

Then feard to be, a seruile galley slaue.

No helpe from home, was lookt for any waie,

All hope was gone, betweene good happe and mee:

In these extreams, thus paste I many a daie,

Till God had sette, bothe minde and bodie free.

And in the ende, ere I did homward drawe,

At my nowne will, Ierusalem I sawe:

And Sipres too, with diuers kyngdoms more,

Whiche stately seats, I had not seen before.

A minde I had, of further toile then this,

But sondrie letts, in that behalf I founde:

And as oft tyms, I did my purpose mis,

So loe in fine, I drewe me homeward round.

But Fortune wrought, for me suche spite at home,

That once againe, a broad I must goe rome:

I shapt me thoe, a nerar course to hold,

In hope that happe, the haplesse fauour wold.

[Page]

Now sought I how, to serue my countrey well,

And fram'd bothe witts, and wealth to that delite:

In forraine soile, the wandryng Prince did dwell,

From whence oft tyms, to countrey did I write.

Yea to the cheef, that here hath rule and charge,

To whom I showd, some matters full at large:

For whiche I wanne, greate fauour and good will,

So long tyme spent, in right good credite still.

But Fortune fround, at that good lucke of mine,

As she was wont, to doe by course and kinde:

That froward dame, ye knowe doeth still repine,

At eurie one, that bears a noble minde.

A dreadfull Duke, a fearfull prince I saie,

Sore matters there, vnto my charge did laie:

And clapt me vp, in cruell prison faste,

Where long I lookt, for nought but death at laste.

A leuen months, I laie in lothsome sincke,

Where some condempd, aboad the diefinoll daie:

Some liu'd in lacke, and staru'd for meate and drinke,

Some made greate shift, yet could not get awaie:

Some were had out, to suffer for offence,

Some had small wealth, yet laie at greate expence:

And some were rackt, and loste their lims there bye,

And none but glad, to please the Iailours eye.

The fulsome smells, and sauours out of frame,

Weare able sure, to burst a Giants harte:

The vsage vile, and other greefs to name,

Did farre surmount, the weight of common smarte,

The checks, the taunts, and bitter bityng words,

Did cutte more sharpe, then bloodie mortall swords:

The torments strange, that helhounds shewd vs theare,

Was sure muche more, then humain kinde could beare.

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The worlde abroad, knows not what prisnars feele,

The birde on bushe, conceiu's no care of cage:

Who sitts a loft, in topp of Fortun's wheele,

Full little knowes, the cause of captiu's rage.

Well I suckt vp, of this the sweete and sowre,

And sought for freends, and so stretcht forth my powre:

That out I came, and homward once againe,

I paste in peace, and scapt a scouryng plaine.

Here found I things, as God hym self did please,

My wife in graue, and worlde was altred cleane:

Then did I frame, my self to liue at ease,

And as I might, to hold a merrie meane.

Content with cares, that tyme had ouer blowne,

Full bent to dwell, and reste vpon myne owne:

Not lookt for chere, in house I kept before,

Those spendyng daies, bad spare and seeke for store.

But yet small while, I rested here in deede,

But that I hard, of one a noble brute:

A widdowe wise, of gentill race and seede,

And suche a dame, as worthie was of sute,

Whose wifely port, and comlie maners graue,

(With shamfast looks, and glance of beautie braue:)

Was able sure, as worlds report did shoe,

To make from tombe, the dedde to speake and goe.

Her famous brute, so set my harte on fire,

That fancie flam'd, on that I neuer sawe:

And still so hotte, did burne this newe desire,

That witte confest, in loue there was no lawe.

A sodaine heate, and sure a thyng full strange,

That loue so sone, could worke so sore a change:

To make hym like, and namely in the place,

Where loe before, he sawe ne shape nor face.

[Page]

A powre deuine, or Deastnie drewe this draught,

It can not come, of light conceits nor toyes:

For as wilde birds, in bushe or lime are caught,

And so strange handes! poore sillie birde enioyes.

(Through Deastnies lot, that all appointeth here,)

So was I caught, I bye the proofe full dere:

For nought but smart, as yet thereby doeth rise,

Suche Fortune falls, on men from starrie Skise.

Where Gods doe worke, men must of force giue place,

It hapned thus, what needs more words here in:

Me thought in slepe, I sawe a strangers face,

A wake I walkt, as I in mase had bin.

In house or feeld, all that I did behold,

Presented plaine, this noble fleece of gold:

The wandryng Prince, a Iason wisht hym than,

Or for that fleece, to be a happie man.

In spendyng daies, and tyme of that deuice,

A chance befell, as blisfull Fortune wold:

The preshoes Iemme, and iewell dere of price,

That wandryng Prince, doeth call the fleece of gold.

At dinner was, where I was bidde a geast,

O happie house, nay rather happie feast:

O castell good, where in my Ladie satte,

Where but bare vewe, and sight of her I gatte.

My gasyng eyes, no soner sawe this sight,

But straight I saied, the worlds report was true:

And in all poincts, she was the self same wight,

That I had heard, and more to saie to you.

Her grace so muche, did please my inward minde,

That sure I thought, I could not easly finde:

So sweete a sainct, to serue and honour still,

If boldnesse durst, present here my good will.

[Page]

A feare straight waies, possest my senses all,

Of fitter matche, for her then I in deede:

And dreadyng sore, how matters forthe would fall,

That I might speake, and others then might speede.

I silent stoode, and stole awaie God wotte,

Yet hopyng still, to finde a better lotte:

An aptter tyme, a season for my sute,

That fancies toile, should reape some thankfull frute.

In watchyng long, and vsyng sleight of witte,

I fauour wan, my sorrows to escrie:

But Fortune made, me plaie vpon the bitte,

And want my will, when hedde I held full hye.

I curbed was, and suche a mozroule felt,

That in no staye, nor certaine hope I dwelt:

Saue that accesse, to her I had somtyme,

As on the staire, I durst attempt to clime.

I did not preace, the mountaine hye to win,

Nor clime the bowes, and spraies of mightie trees:

The valley smothe, I tooke greate pleasure in,

Or goodlie ley, where haunts somtymes the Bees.

To sucke the flowrs, that pleasant Honie makes,

And ley to ley, I thought to hedge with stakes:

As feeld to feeld, should better sure agree,

Then Skie with yearth, or winde and ayre with tree.

Short season sure, I sawe good hope here in,

Sowre was the sweete, and suger tournd to gall,

I sonke where hope, was held vp by the chin,

And in dispaire, I likely was to fall.

This goodly feeld, this ley alone would be,

This soile would not, be hedged in by me:

False Fortune fround, and flang from me in haste,

And with a freake, left faithfull freend disgraste.

[Page]

Who can haue hold, of Fortune when he liste,

She flitts so faste, and flies somtymes so farre:

She will not come, like hauke that stoups to fiste,

When man thinks best, she mounts as hye as starre▪

And at a brunt, leau's louers in the duste,

O Fortune strange, thou art of little trust:

O daintie happe, O Deastnie I thee blame,

For thou art she, that tourns to greef my game.

All other harms, and former wrongs of myne,

The scourges greate, and plag's of forraine soile:

Were small to this, that Deastnie doeth assigne,

Wherein at home, I take an open foile.

All cares of minde, all coste and charge abroad,

Not halfe so muche, doeth sillie conscience load:

All whiche good Lorde, and all the blame of this,

And ground of greef, God wotte blinde Fortune is.

I blame no more, though present death I found,

By this rebuke, and charmyng checke of chance:

Yea though by this, I haue a curelesse wound,

And scarre remains, where Cupids darte did glance:

In cloked cares, I hide the hurts I haue,

And burthen beare, till bodie be in graue:

As one whose ghost, with gronyng waests awaie,

Whose cold conceits, warme life doeth cleane decaie.

So cease good pen, and bid the worlde farewell,

No further verse, nor line my hande shall write:

This is my laste, this toulls the passyng bell,

Of vitall breath, and wished liues delite,

This warns the worlde, and bids the wise beware,

Of doubtfull chance, the onely cause of care:

O faithfull freends, yet shed some teares for me,

That through mishap, my wretched ruine doeth se.

FINIS.

A Pirates Tragedie, beyng a gentleman of a verie good house: Made at the request of Maister Peter Caroe, Capitaine of Laughlin in Irelande: and fette out to shewe the miserable life of a Rouer, whose wretched desire of other mens goodes, bringes open shame, and a violente death.

[Page]

WHen slumbryng slepe, with maiger hande,

Can touche myne eyes, that slouth doeth daunt:

When all my limmes, repos'd did stande,

And so some reste, to me did graunt.

Me thought I sawe, a wretched wight,

With wringyng handes, to make his mones:

He rather seemd a ghostly spright,

That gaspyng lyes, and grouelyng grones.

With horie beard, and scorched face,

With poudred hedde, and heare vnshorne:

With hackes and hewes, in euery place,

He seemed like, a man forlorne.

His sappe and sauerie sent was past,

His youthfull daies, worne in decaie:

His mellowed yeres, were gone to wast,

His blowmyng spryng, was blowen awaie.

[Page]

His lippes and cheeks, were pale and thinne,

His hollowed eyes, were sonke in hedde:

His fleshe was frette, nought left but skinne,

His marrowe dried, that youth had bredde.

His teeth and gummes, like harowes stoode,

His furrowed face, like ploughed lande:

His vaines did want, their wonted bloode,

His sinewes shronke, like knottes did stande.

A Sea mans cappe, on hedde he ware,

A slidyng stoppe, of Friers graie:

A checker Kaep, bothe thinne and bare,

To furnishe vp, his queint araie.

A gables ende, his girdle made,

His shurte besmerde, with Pitche and Tarre:

Close by his side, a rustie blade,

This carle in youth, a man of warre.

A Pilotes compasse, he did holde,

To shewe what science he profest:

The skill whereof, had made hym bolde,

To saile the seas, bothe East and West.

This wight with faultryng tonge I saie,

Gan curse the prancks, his youth had plaied:

And then a loude, withouten staie,

With double sighes, these wordes he saied.

Woe worthe the yere, the month, the daie,

The season, tyme, and instant howre:

When first I formed, was in claie,

And tooke my shape, in yearthly bowre.

[Page]

Woe worthe the wight, that ioyned fast,

My parents handes, in wedlockes rest:

Would poison had, been my repast,

When first I suckt, my mothers brest.

Oh would the Nurse, that bound my hedde,

Had brus'd my braine, with bloodie pawe:

Or that my Font, had boild with Ledde,

When I came bounde, to Christian lawe.

Oh would the bandes, my bane had bin,

That swadled me, in tender age:

Oh would the cloutes, I battelled in,

Had been bewitcht, with Cyrces rage.

Thou cradell that, rockte me a sleepe,

I wishe thy couche, had been my graue:

And who so taught, me first to creepe,

Some vengeance vile, on hym I craue.

When I these thynges, had seen and heard,

And throughly waied, this wofull sight:

It me appald, and made afeard,

Yet ruyng on, his wretched plight.

I askt hym then, from whence he came,

What cause constraind, hym thus to waile:

What life he ledde, and what his name,

What strange mishappes, did hym assaile.

Here at a while, he held his peace,

With wringyng handes, he wipte his eyes:

Then my desire, did more encrease,

To knowe the cause, of all his cryes.

[Page]

Why staiest thou thus, why doest thou pause,

Thou sprite, thou man, thou grisly ghoste:

Why standst thou still, shewe me the cause,

What troubles now, torment thee moste.

Oh meruaile sir, no whit ꝙ he,

Muse not to see, me in this case:

I was a man, as now you be,

Whiche haue mispent, my youthfull race.

In Ladron lande, my birthe I tooke,

Thalassilestis, once I hight:

Bothe name and soule, I well maie brooke,

My life from them, deriu'd a right.

From noble stocke, by true discent,

Vnworthie I, my race doeth rise:

Good lande I had, but not content,

Desire to clime, did blinde myne eyes.

My home and soile, I set at nought,

My mynde was bent, to wander still:

To Court I came, and there I thought,

To winne bothe worlde, and wealth at will.

This recknyng rashe, was made in hast,

Myne hoste was absent you maie see:

Then recken twise, least false thou cast,

Thus Prouerbes old, doe counsell thee.

First looke then leape, and doe not spare,

Or els thy shinnes, maie chance to bleede:

He sure shall reape, the croppe of care,

Of rashe attemptes, that sowes the seede.

[Page]

Who shootes before, he see his marke,

No meruell though, he shote a side:

In seas vnknowen, who brynges his barke,

Without a compase, saileth wide.

Who climes the Alpes, withouten guide,

No meruaile though, he misse the waie:

In Laberynth, who so is tide,

If Dedall helpe not, there must staie.

O happie you, that learne by me,

And my mishappes, your harmes to shunne:

Thrise happie thei, that can for see,

The rocks whereon, my barke hath runne.

In Court thus plast, my self I gaue,

With wanton lookes, eche where to gase:

All Pecokes plummes, appered braue,

Bewitch'd I was, with glorious blase.

With hardned harte, I held that haunt,

In hope those ioyes, would neuer blinne:

I thought no change, of chaunce might daunt,

Or stoppe the course, I did beginne.

But hoela sir, twas tyme to staie,

My braue attire, and wanton braggs:

When all my lande, was sold awaie,

And rents were rapt, on silken raggs.

In Courte I spent, bothe wealth and tyme,

Till want had worne, my credite bare:

Dewe for suche hedds, as seeke to clyme,

Before sure footyng, thei prepare.

[Page]

Some that before, I helpt at neede,

And sawe me sinke, thus in decaie:

Did start when thei, should stande in steede,

Vnstedfast then, was all their staie.

Suche freendes maie be, compard to Kites,

That carrion corses doe deuour:

The fleshe consum'd, thei take their flights,

Els where to builde, them selues a bowre.

A Glasse maie seme, a gemme in vewe,

Till he abide, the hammers blowe:

And Brasse doeth beare, a golden hewe,

Till touche bewraies, his guilfull showe.

When that my shippe, had stronger keele,

Thei ranne their course, with me aboorde▪

Now Fortune frounes, thei turne their heele.

And scarce can spare, me one good woorde.

As frendship faild, I fell a pace,

My foes did swarme, with swellyng hate:

Too deare I bought, my courtly grace,

Doune reeld the proppes, of myne estate.

O tickell tyme, that breedes but teares,

O sugred sopps, be spicest with gall:

O traitrous tree, that berries beares,

Whose blossomes gaie, deceiues vs all.

As pompe puffes vp, the harte in pride,

So plague pluckes doune, the hautie minde:

And as the fishe, doeth followe tide,

So men runnes after Fortune blinde.

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I chaste a shadowe in the Sunne,

And lookt for happe, where hate remainde,

And still the faster did I runne,

The more I founde, my self disdainde.

The hollowe worlde, all haile would crie,

And leade the Lambe, to slaughter soe:

And fraude so finely bleard myne eye,

I scarce desern'd a freend from foe.

For suche as ment, but mere desaite,

Would make a shewe, of moste good will:

Thus harmelesse swallowed poisoned baite,

And I deceiued, by flattrie still.

Then findyng Fortunes froward face,

That earst was clokte, in craftie cloude:

I shapte to shunne, the doubtfull place,

That makes the painted Pecocke proude.

For as that birde, in borroude plumes,

Doeth braue it out, with feathers gaie,

So glorious Courtiars haue some rumes,

That doeth their sicke, estate bewraie.

But when worlde sees, how finesse deales,

It makes small count, of glorious shoe:

So thus I sought, the salue that heales,

Yet founde a medsen mixt with woe.

For shunnyng Court, I came to care,

Of thynges to come, and perills paste:

And put to shiftes, through Fortune bare,

A Pirate I became at laste.

[Page]

No minde of birthe, or gentill blood,

Could staie the rage, that Rouers haue:

My witts were bent, on worldly good,

And note how I, might credite saue.

For squaryng Dick's, and thristlesse ladds,

The wandryng mates, of Tygers kinde:

I sought, and so for golden gadds,

To glutt thereby, my greedie minde.

Bothe Baie and Rode, and harbryng place,

I knewe and there, could closely lye:

And stoutly gaue, a Ship the chace,

And borde what Barke, did please myne eye.

The yeelded men, I flang oure hatche,

The riche I fleest, the poore I slewe:

From freend or foe, my ladd's would snatche,

And daiely seeke, for booties newe.

The pries and goods, no soner sold,

But bibbe and quaffe, like Baccus knightes:

To Dice and dalliance then we wold,

And so make short, long Winters nightes.

With braulyng blades, then roiste and cutte

Or walke the streats, where dames doe dwell:

And boltes we had, for eurie butte,

And those that shotte, at rouers well.

Sometymes our coyne, could stop a gappe,

And purchace pardon by a traine:

But gallows lucke, and ropripe happe,

At length was gwerdon for our paine.

[Page]

In stormes and flawes, we stroue with Seas,

In calmes we crept, along the coste:

In Sommer tyme, we tooke some ease,

In Winter ofte, with tempests toste.

And still afferde, of Princes powre,

A theeuishe life, dreedes many doubtes:

And thei that sought vs euery howre,

In Creekes and Hauens laied their scoutes.

And so at length, we were espied,

And followed faste, and forste to flye:

Then serued neither winde nor tied,

For we must either yeeld or dye.

My mates put all the faulte in me,

But that preuail'd no whitte at all:

For none of them, from blame stoode free,

And our offences were not small.

So were we sent vnto the gaile,

And some truste vp, to shorten charge:

And those that could, by sute preuaile,

Escaped death, and went at large.

But I in boltes, laie long God wotte,

As one that sawe, his ende drawe nere:

For sure no pardon could be gotte,

I must needes bye, my follie dere.

My freendes forsooke me euery one,

My foes were glad to see me faste:

My wealthe was spent, my goods were gone,

And lothsome life, to long did laste.

[Page]

For I was kepte, to waile my sin,

And saue the soule, that God had bought:

When out of worlde, I would haue bin,

I did so pine, awaie with thought.

My cheere was bare, my bedde but harde,

My robes all rent, and torne to ragges:

And worlde but small did me regarde,

For all my pride, and former bragges.

The daie drewe on, of my dispatche,

And that this life, I must forsake:

And wondryng worlde, did owrly watche,

To heare the ende that I would make:

Then through the streats, with glaiu's and bills,

In ropes a foote, was prisner ledde:

Thus captiu's goe, against their willes▪

Where some that liu's, bewailes the dedde.

Some pittie muche, mans leawdnesse there,

And sorie are, to see his ende:

And some that neuer lawe did feare,

By that their euill liues amende.

Some sigh and sobbe, and weepe for woe,

Some praie and lifte their handes an hye:

And some a heauie face doeth showe,

As thei these thyngs beholde with eye.

I markt the same, when harte full sadd,

In tremblyng breast, laie pantyng sore:

And where the death deseru'd I hadd,

My greef thereby encreast the more.

[Page]

Then to the Cloudes, I cast vp eyes,

And scorn'd to looke on yearthly mosse:

As Soule should mount to sacred Skies,

And leaue be lowe, all worldlie drosse.

A sillie tale, I tolde a lasse,

Of sondrie synnes, in secret kept:

Some freends in hearyng thereof was,

That bitterly, my faultes be wept.

But whereto serueth all this geare,

I loste my life, by Lawe and right:

And I must recken other wheare,

For faultes I here accounted light.

Yet mercie maie, amende my mis,

And mercie comes, where grace we craue:

When cruell worlde, moste dreadfull is,

Of gracious God, we mercie haue.

My sadd discourse, is fullie tolde,

O man that doest, from slumber rise:

Take penne in hande, and doe vnfolde,

My fall, and therewith warne the wise.

Bidd them beware, that boldly ronne,

Thei happen not, in hemppen corde:

As many a mothers childe hath donne,

That neuer throughly fearde the Lorde.

Tell Pirates all, what ende I founde,

And shewe eche sorte of men my fall:

That euery where, in worlde so rounde,

My scourge and plague, maie warne them all.

[Page]

O wretched wight, and freende of myne,

Quoth I, thy fall, I will sette forthe:

So that the cunnyng people fine,

Doe take my labour well in worthe.

Then rose I from the sleepe I sought,

And in at studdie doore I paste:

And there to passe this woorke I brought,

And sent it to, the Print at laste.

So read it as your pleasure is,

The man I knewe, and matter bothe:

And to be short, be sure of this,

This is no toye, but words of trothe.

FINIS.

A Letter sent from the noble Erle of Ormondes house at Kilkennie, to the honourable sir Henry Sidney, then Lorde Deputie, and liyng at Rorke, in Irelande.

[Page]

IF witte by Arte, could make my pen to flowe,

A flood of skill, should aunswer that I wolde:

But lande lefte drie, wher strems should largly grow

Small water brook's, must sillie springs vnfold,

A barraine grounde, can yeeld no grain's of gold.

A sorie soile, greate store of rubbishe beares,

What neede I thus, to trouble tender eares:

With rude deuice, and words more light then winde,

When sweeter fraies, should vtter greef of minde.

Long was my wishe, to waite on worthie wight,

Short was the staie, where Fortunes balls rebound:

Some happ maie come, whiells men remaine in sight,

But absence breeds, in breast a curelesse wound.

And out of minde, it brings a freend I knowe,

Thei finde the corne, that reaps where other sowe:

Thei catche the cronies, that waites at table round,

Thei hitte the marke, that still can plie the bowe,

Where saile I now, my shippe is sure on ground.

Maie rather loe, I wander on the seas,

[Page]And trie the stream's, and channells where I pleas:

But tossed Bark's, are weather beaten oft,

And shaken sore, with surges so a loft:

Thei can not come, nor saffely drawe to road,

In quiet port, and their discharge their load.

Yet haue I been, at Anker nere the Baie,

And beaten of, the shore in deepe despite:

Where meaner shippps, with calme at pleasure laie,

And felt the frute, of all my hopes delite.

I muse how drones, and dastard dolts in deede,

Dare preace in place, and put their betters backe:

Methink's a flowre, should sone disgrace a weede,

And vice should blushe, where vertue shewes no lacke.

Tushe, men can now, clapp on a face of Brasse,

And striue by lookes, to winne the goale and all:

Yet when thei spie, their iugglyng in a glasse,

Thei tourne their backes, and so forsakes the ball.

Suche maskers leaude, would daunce in nette vnseen,

And clime the cloudes, where smilyng Gods doe sitte:

Yet all thinges are, not as these wod [...]ockes ween,

Their blinde beleef, runnes farre beyond their witte.

And leades their sence, an ace or twoo a wrie,

What though we take, a Parret for a Pye:

Some birdes must chatte, to fill our eares with crye,

And we well pleas'd, although thei tell a lye:

Sutche are the moodes, and humors of our age,

Where some must walke, accordyng to the tyme:

What then, worlde knowes, these birdes are not it cage,

Nor feares the snare, ne falleth in the lyme.

A kinde of wormes, there be that eates the Nutte,

And leaues the shell, as bare as bare maie bee:

Some shooters seeke, but how to hitte the butte,

And from the white, thei wishe their shaftes should flee.

For if thei ment, true shootyng should be seen,

Thei would not fall, to roue on euery green:

[Page]Nor flatter so, in hope to mende their game,

Well some are brought, so farre paste worldly shame.

Thei little care, what side doeth lose or winne,

Thei neither bette, nor beare a peece of losse:

And in the ende, thei proue not worthe a pinne,

For all their craft, and creepyng to the crosse.

Let faunyng whelps, and gropars of good will:

Packe with the reste, and searche what happe will giue,

Some other corne, is grinded at my mill,

Men maie not looke, by flattrie still to liue.

A finer foode, finds fancie for his toeth,

But maie a man, be bolde in blont deuice:

To tell his minde, and what blinde people doeth,

In weedyng thus, my wittes were verie nice.

If now I would, not bryng a boxe of spice,

To season that, that wanted salte before:

When fire goes out, yet stickes I haue in store,

To mende the flame, though wood be dere of price.

But where the blase, can warme no handes at all,

It wakes the witts, and keepes the hedde from sleepe:

And makes hym smile, that seeth through stonie wall,

Like linxe and hath, a golden fleece to keepe.

Yea Argose eyes, to gard his noble charge,

The care whereof, bereau's the minde of reste:

And holdes hym in, where others walke at large,

To waie this worlde, in ballance of the breste.

A heauie weight, the iudgement then doeth beare,

The merrie lookes, forsakes the cheerfull face:

And sadd conceits, doe creepe in thought I feare,

And sorrowe sowre, supplies sweete pleasures place.

I see a change, of countnance trust me now,

As though a masse, of matter mou'd the minde:

And who so notes, the sodaine bended browe,

By outward shewe, an inward cause shall finde.

Of troubled sprite, O leaue that of in tyme!

[Page]Those gripyng greefes, and gnawyng wormes are nought

Call for some sportes, or read some triflyng ryme,

To take awaie, the ground of greeuous thought.

In sutche extreemes, fine Christmas games are good,

And Musicks sounde, reuiues the drouzie braine:

A tale well told, of merie Robbin Hood,

The wandryng harte, it shall bryng home againe.

A Figge for those, that stands like staines still,

And stares in face, to feede thei knowe not what:

And wheeles about, like horse that turns the Mill,

Yet gaine no more, then prettie pusse our Cat.

That seekes for Mouse, when other game is gone,

The witlesse foole, for Fishe maie catche a Frogge:

And wantyng fleshe, maie bite vpon a bone,

So to the fire, the lubber beares the logge.

Because his strength, doeth passe his fellowes farre,

Now shoote I wrong, I knowe not where I dribbe:

Except my bolte, doe hitte some blasyng starre,

Tushe, thats a toye, let Tomkin talke of Tibb.

And moue some mirthe, to make the season short,

It breedes good blood, and puffes vp Lenten cheekes:

When all is doen, men lengthen life with sport,

Some feede on loue, as Larkes doe liue with Leekes.

Some take suche thought, thei sleepe vntill thei snort,

Some neuer wakes, to doe their neighbours good:

Some can not spare, their freends a good report,

Some wade bare legg'd, to moile for mucke and mood.

Some shewe good will, yet beare greate hate in brest,

Some make small signes, and bidds you iudge the rest:

Some seem like ware, that neuer melt with fire,

Some are as cold, as Ice or frosen Snowe:

Some through the nose, doe easely drawe a wire,

Some plaies the sheepe, and proues a crabbed shroe.

Some lackes no legges, yet knowes not where to goe,

Some walkes too farre, their pace is out of rule:

[Page]Some comes to short, of that we wishe to haue,

Some haue as mutche, good maners as a Mule.

Some fannes like whelpe, that still the taile can waue.

In fine this some, maie sommond be for nought,

Yet fill thei vp, the some of basest thought:

More greater mindes, there are of finer mold,

Whose hartes disdaine, to stoupe to base delites:

Thei shine like pearle, and glitter like the gold,

The noble Haukes, that staines the dunghill Kites.

The worthie birdes, that soers in loftie Skies,

The ioye of Gods, and glorie greate of menne:

The whippe to fooles, and beautie of the wise,

The whetstone smothe, whereon we sharpe our penne.

Some sutche haue force, to winne a worlde with lookes,

To teare the harts, out of the bloodie brest:

Suche yearthly gods, doeth sitte in secret nookes,

And tune the stryngs, of state without a wrest.

And suche in deede, are double treble blest.

No soner thei, pronounce a worde or twaine,

A silence streight, by listnyng eares we finde:

That what we heare, our senses maie retaine,

And locke it vp, in iudgement of the minde.

And whiles we note, the sweetnesse of their frase,

We lose our selues, and carried are awaie:

From that we were, so standyng then at mase,

The feeld is loste, no tournyng face that daie,

The feight is doen, and broken is the raie.

There is a stone, that drawes hard Iron ye knoe,

So is there wood, that water turnes to stones:

Then are there men, that gouerne where thei goe,

And haue a gift, of Nature for the nones.

To daunt the proude, and strike the hautie doune,

Beleeue me now, I knoe who weares a croune:

And when she lifts, to plaie the Lyons part,

Her words a lone, can make men couche by art.

[Page]Not for her place, but for her grace is suche,

To conquer those, that ought her subiectes bee:

The self same powre, myne inward sprite doeth touche,

Where rightly borne, the regall sworde I see.

For if he speake, that doeth her place supplie,

I yeeld vp all, farewell bothe sence and skill:

I knowe eche birde, obaies the Egles eye,

No fishe in flood, but feares the Dolphin still.

The Lyons lookes, makes euery beast to bowe,

The pretie Bees, when that their kyng doeth hom:

Attendance giues, in decent order throwe,

And in a swarme, together will thei come.

If beasts and birds, and fishe and Flies doe soe,

A man were blinde, that doeth no duetie knowe:

Then why am I, so long from Corke you aske,

The cause is knowne, when to the North we went:

I euer laie, like one that tooke a taske,

Of corne to thrashe, and till the strawe was spent.

I had no bed, yea twelue long weekes at least,

I shifted out, and laie as badd as beast.

Then drewe we home, from sauage countrey wilde,

But Harbenger, no better order tooke:

I durst not then, complaine like little childe,

That flings from schoole, and madly burnes his booke.

So then for sleepe, and ease I gan to looke.

And left the streame, where fishe for place doeth striue,

But lothe to part, yet glad to lye in sheetes:

Because with reste, our daies awaie we driue,

And laisure finde, to charme and coniour spreets.

A cunnyng knacke, for shreaude and wicked heddes,

That watche the Moone, and searche in gardein beddes:

What hearbs are good, to make a wilde Gose came,

And where and how, the madde dogge must be cuerd:

That is no arte, but for old distaffe dame,

That looks like witthe, whose practise hath procuerd.

[Page]A Horse or Mare, to swell and pine to death,

Some saie for sport, these Callioghes knowes a knacke:

To blowe doune trees, thei haue so strong a breath,

What needes more words, a plague take all the packe,

That plaies foule plaie, in house, in holt, or heath.

Let trifles passe, I vse some houshold talke,

And write of state, and how the worlde doeth frame:

Muche shall thei heere, that long abroad doeth walke,

And haue some sight, and skill to marke the same.

Thei saie this lande, hath many sores and greues,

That fewe or none, doe seeke to salue a right:

And is so spoield, by Rebells, Knaues, and Theues,

(And bareleggd Kerne, whiche setts all goodnesse light)

That worse and worse, the common wealth doeth waxe,

Why eury hedde, should members badd reforme:

And if men please, to take the fire from flaxe,

The kirnell sweete, should sone be safe from worme.

Though some haue sought, their onely priuate gaine,

And fedd on fleece, that from the flocke did fall:

Yet grace is lefte, and hope there doeth remaine,

That some doeth liue, to mende the mischiues all.

But to be plaine, I heare a wofull crie,

The noyes whereof, resounds through starrie Skie.

The poore that liues, by toyle and sweate of browes,

(And nere good tounes, where eche man knowes his own:)

Can not be free, nor well enioye their plowes,

Thei are in deede, with selfe, so ouerthrown.

In any place, where proudest people dwell,

Whose rule is mixt, with rage and rigor still:

Was neuer seen, nor felt so foule an hell,

As this good Lorde, where waest doeth what it will.

Suche as be borne, as free as we our selues,

And tilles the ground, and dearely paies therefore:

(And for their babes, full truely diggs and delues)

In their moste neede, we plague and scourge full sore.

[Page]Beyond the course, of reason, lawe and right,

A cruell cace, and twise as heauie a sight:

To see the weake, with strongest thrust to wall,

And lose their goods, and not the halfe but all.

The people saie, were coyne and liurey gon,

The lande would sure, with Milke and Honie floe:

Their trust is now, redresse is commyng on,

And hauocke shall, to hatefull harbour goe.

Why striue I thus, to thunder in the aire,

That neuer knewe, how raine in season fell:

When stormes are past, and weather waxeth faire,

By heauens blisse, we shon the paines of hell.

When peace bears frute, and wicked warre decaies:

I gage my life, that all thyng shalbe well,

And worlde will saie, we liue in happie daies.

No floure at first, can yeeld a perfite smell,

Till tyme bryngs forthe, frō stalke bothe budds and leaues,

Who seeks for nutts, till hardned be the shell,

The kirnell wantes, and so hym self deceiues.

The mynds of men, would quickly haue their wishe,

And haue suche haste, of that thei doe desire,

That often tyme, without good skill thei fishe:

Or leapyng dike, thei light a mid the mire.

Who will not staie, for weather, winde, and flood,

Shall saile but selde, and see no forraine soile:

It must be tyme, that doeth the people good,

As Haruest comes, of labour paine and toile.

To enter thus, in matters of greate weight,

Would vexe the witts, of riper hedds then myne:

Tis better vse, the penne with simple sleight,

Then in graue things, to make the frase too fine:

As ynkehorne termes, smells of the schoole sometyme,

So farre fetcht words, are farsed full of larde:

And paper stouft, with store of stretched ryme,

Doeth turne againe, disgraest without regarde.

[Page]Els flong a side, or laied in windoe nooke:

As fancies vaine, whereon fewe wisemen looke.

There pause a while, God sheeld my labour soe,

Were loste my Lorde, thei coste me further paine:

A mornynges muse, a merrie freake ye knoe,

A whole nights watche, a broken slepe or twaine.

Though trifles come, from hedds full fraught with toyes,

Some get greate thanks, for pinnes and lases light:

We like no Drone, nor Bagpipe for the noyes,

Nor Maie poull mirthe, for any showe or sight.

But for the sport, and gladnesse that thei bryng:

Whose chearfull sound, makes heauie sad men syng,

A noble arte, is Musicke sure I finde,

For noble life, that marchant doeth maintaine:

He can make sale, of feathers in the winde,

And sell good cheape, a drousie adell braine:

Yet Musicke not, compares with merrie minde,

For that bryngs blood, to eurie vitall vaine.

And heaues vp harte, from dongeon of dispaire:

To be as blithe, as birde in open aire.

If any glance, of matter be in this,

Past merrie meane, yet merrie muse it is:

That leades my penne, I sweare by heauens blis.

Wherefore in mirthe, I praie you take these lines,

My duetie maie, excuse my boldnesse here:

I borrowd not, my wordes of graue deuines,

Nor of fine wittes, that holdes small dainties dere.

Thei came good cheape, from merrie nourses papp,

Good chepe thei goe, where muses fauour moste:

But dere thei are, if writer finde mishapp,

Thereby, and worlde, account the labour loste.

God graunt the tyme, be good when thei were sent,

And that eche worde, be taken as I ment:

The best is sure, and that is moste to praies,

Thei goe to one, I honour all my daies.

FINIS.

The Epitaphe of the rare vertuous Prince (and towardes Impe of grace) Kyng Edward the sixte.

[Page]

THe Lampe is out, that lightned Englishe harts,

Whose liuely shoe, and beautie shoen so bright:

And gaue suche ioye, to all our inward smarts,

That well was hym, that had thereon a sight.

Edward I meane, whiche was our kyng by right.

The golden torche, and candle matutine,

Did blase and burne, within his Christalleyne,

But well awaie, those lookes their life hath loste,

Full dimme and darcke,

Is now that sparke:

That whilome was, the staie of Englandes boaste.

Now Death hath dried, this pleasaunt princely plant,

And hent our happ, an hye aboue the skyes:

Who knowes the losse, but those, that feele the want,

Wherefore the teares, distilled from our eyes.

But since this babe, hath made his sacrifies.

And yeelded vp, his life and vitall breath:

What can ye blame, but hastie cruell death.

Whiche pluckt the Rose, before his leaues were spredde,

[Page]Yet shall his name,

Remaine with fame:

And florishe still, although the flowre be dedde.

A face so fraught, with fauour bloomyng still,

A cheere so chaste, subduyng eche desire,

A hedde so ripe, with grace and connyng skill:

A tong so deckt, and cladd in trothes attire,

A harte so meeke, and cleane deuoide of yre.

An eare so pure, to heare the poore mannes cause:

A witte to iudge, a zeale to make good lawes.

A hande so clere, from blood, looke well thereon,

Was seldome seene,

In Kyng ne Queene:

Helas the while, our Lanterns light is gon.

His witte wanne praise, as by his waies apperes,

His vertuous stepps, wan fame emong the wice,

His tender youth, did teache the aged yeres:

His sober life, rebuked euery vice,

His woords and works, did passe the pearle in price.

His gestures all, if thei were grauen in gold:

A mirrour were, to learne bothe yong and old.

Wherfore the vnfitte, the yearth is for his graue,

His place of reast,

Is Abrams breast:

A worthie tombe, for suche a Kyng to haue.

Finis.

The Epitaphe of the worthie Erle of Essex.

[Page]

I Blushe to write, in verse, a matter of suche weight,

That makes the hearars shed some teares, and moueth sorrowe streight:

In graue and statly stile, this tale should sounded be:

Too base for suche greate cause I finde, my slender muse and me.

My harte doeth bléede in breast, my pen in hande doeth shake,

Mine inward sprits doe wepe for woe, this sad discourse to make,

But though with heauie newes, a while I fill your eares,

The fame I write of this great mā, to ioy shall turne your tears

Yea greate of birthe and minde, and fewe so greate as he,

For daiely through desarts he grewe, in greatnesse by degree:

A Caesars harte he boare, that neuer shronke nor quaild,

A courage that against his foes, in all attemptes preuaild.

A hedde that could conceiue, as farre as cause was found,

A bodie apt for warlike broiles, where bountie did abound:

Yea for his bountie greate, a prince in very deede,

That made no more account of gold, then of a rotten reede.

The noble giftes he gaue, a worlde of worthies wan,

Was neuer seen, in Britaine bred, for bountie suche a man.

An Erle and liuely Lorde, as milde as is the Doue,

Whose courtuous speeche & pleasant port, did purchace peoples loue.

A freend to all good men, as faste and true as steele,

That would not wagg wt worlds abuse, & turn about like whéele

A pearlesse subiect sure, that Englandes honour sought,

[Page]And carde not with what losse of goods, his countrey gaine was bought

Full bent to Marciall feats, a Mars in deede well tried,

Abroad in féeld where men are known, and cowards easly spied:

The care of publique weale, laie wakyng in his eyes,

A noble Soldiour framde by kinde, in best and brauest gyes.

A house and houshold kept, so frankly euery where,

That all the lookers on would saie, some prince was placed there

The Soldiours swarmd like Bées, about his stately gate,

He was a Lanterne of this land, and Mirrhour of the state.

In all thyngs that he did, then what a losse had they:

That comes to sée his noble shrine, and findes the sainct awey.

O fréends that honord hym, and faithfull seruaunts bothe,

Come wéepe with me, & shew thereby, some signe of your great trothe

For I haue lost a fréend, and for his sake I vowe,

To plant my penne vpon his tombe, and rest from writyng now

Till I his like maie finde, whiche hardly shalbe don:

O Essexe of renowmed fame, thy race is nobly ron.

FINIS.

Information about this book

Title statement

A generall rehearsall of warres, called Churchyardes choise wherein is fiue hundred seuerall seruices of land and sea as seiges, battailes, skirmiches, and encounters. A thousande gentle mennes names, of the beste sorte of warriours. A praise and true honour of soldiours. A proofe of perfite nobilitie. A triall and first erection of heraldes. A discourse of calamitie. And ioyned to the same some tragedies & epitaphes, as many as was necessarie for this firste booke. All which workes are dedicated to the hounourable sir Christopher Hatton knight, ... Written by Thomas Churchyard Gent. 1579.

Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.

Edition statement

1579

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2005-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A18737

ID [STC]

STC 5235.2

ID [STC]

ESTC S107881

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99843573

ID [PROQUEST]

99843573

ID [VID]

8316

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A18737)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 8316)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1599:13)

Source

— A generall rehearsall of warres, called Churchyardes choise wherein is fiue hundred seuerall seruices of land and sea as seiges, battailes, skirmiches, and encounters. A thousande gentle mennes names, of the beste sorte of warriours. A praise and true honour of soldiours. A proofe of perfite nobilitie. A triall and first erection of heraldes. A discourse of calamitie. And ioyned to the same some tragedies & epitaphes, as many as was necessarie for this firste booke. All which workes are dedicated to the hounourable sir Christopher Hatton knight, ... Written by Thomas Churchyard Gent. 1579., Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604..

Extent

[246] p.

By [John Kingston for] Edward White, dwellyng at the little north-doore of S. Paules Churche, at the signe of the Gunne,. Imprinted at London :: [1579]. (Partly in verse.) (Actual printer's name from STC.) (Signatures: *-2*⁴ A-G⁴ (G3 + 3 leaves, the first two signed "G.iiii" and G.v") H-2E⁴.) (Running title reads: Churchyardes choise.) (Reissue, with cancel title, of the edition without "Churchyardes choise" on the title page.) (Variant: lacking the three inserted leaves after G3.) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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