MISCELLANY 38
THE P1TIFULL LIFE
OF KYNG EDWARD THE. V.
III: The Queen in Sanctuary
The Queen discovers Richard’s trick in taking control of Edward V, and,
quite rightly fearing for the succession, claims sanctuary in the monastery of
Westminster Abbey with her younger son, the ten-year-old Richard, Duke of
York. At the time anyone could claim
sanctuary in such a way, and could not be touched by anyone pursuing them. She is reassured by the Archbishop of York
that she is worrying unduly. Edward V
arrives in London with his ‘loving and supportive’ uncle Richard of Gloucester, who
pubicly treats him with all due deference while setting about somehow
persuading the Queen to leave Sanctuary, arguing that the young king is lonely
without his little brother. The Archbishop of Canterbury is deputed to go
to the Queen and try to persuade her to give up herself and her younger son,
and if she will not do so voluntarily, then by force; the Archbishop agrees to
try to persuade her but rightly refuses to break Sanctuary by using force if
she refuses to move.
With this heauy tidynges the queue
bewayled her chyldes ruyne, her frendes mischaunce, and her owne infortune,
curssyng the tyme that euer she was perswaded to leaue the gatherynge of people
to brynge vp the kynge with a greate powre, but that was passed, and therefore
nowe she toke her younger sonne the duke of Yorke and her doughters and went
out of the palays of Westminster into the sanctuary, and there lodged in the
abbotes place, and she and all her chyldren and compaignie were regestred for
sanctuarye persons. The same night there came to doctor Rotheram Archebyshop of
Yorke and lorde Chauncelour, a messenger from the lord Chambrelayne to Yorke
place besyde Westminster: the messenger was brought to the bishoppes bedsyde
and declared to him that the dukes were gone backe with the young kyng to
Northampton, and declared further, that the lorde Hastynges his maister sent
him worde that he shoulde feare nothyng for all should be well. Wel (quod the
archebishop) be it as wel as it wyl, it wyll neuer be so wel as we haue sene
it, and then the messenger departed. Wherupon the bishop called vp all his
seruauntes and toke with hym the great scale and came before day to the quene,
about whom he found much heauynesse, rumble, haste, businesse, conueighaunce
and cariage of hir stuffe into sanctuarye, euery man was busye to carye, beare
and conueigh stuffe, chestes & fardelles, no man was vnoccupicd, and some
caried more then they were commauuded to another place. The quene sat alone
belowe on the rushes all desolate & dismayde, whom the Archebishoppe
conforted in the best maner that he coulde, shewyng her that the matter was
nothyng so sore as she tooke it for, and that he was putte in good hope and out
of feare by the message seme to hym from the lorde Hastynges. A wo worth him
quod the quene, for it is he that goeth about to destroy me and my blodde.
Madame quod he, be of good comfortc and 1 assure you, yf they crovvne any other
kynge then your sonne whom they nowe haue, we shal on the inorow croune his
brother whom you haue here with you. And here is the great seale, which in
lykewisc as your noble husband deliuered it to me, so I deliuer it to you to
the vse of your sonne and thcrwith deliuered her the greate seale, and departed
home in the dawning of the day. And when he opened his wyndowes and loked on
the Temys, he might see the riuer full of boates, of the duke of Gloucester hs
seruauntes watching, that no person should go to sanctuary, nor none should
passe vnserched.
'Iheu «as there great rumourc and commotion in
the citee and in other places, the people diuerscly diuined vpon this dealyuge.
.And diuerse lordes, kuightes and gentilmen, either for fauoure of the quene or
for feare of them selfes, assembled compaignies and wente flockyng together in
harneis. And many also, for that they recompted this demeanour attempted, not
so specially against other lordes as against the kynge hym selfe in the
dysturbaunce of his coronation, therefore they assembled by and by together to
common of this matter at London. The Archebishoppe of Yorke fearingc that it
woulde be ascribed (as it was in dede,) to ouermuch lightnes, that he so
sodeinly had yelded vp the great seale to the quene, to whom the custody therof
nothing apperteigned without especial commaundemente of the kynge, mete with
the lordes.
...
When the kynge approched nere the
cytee, Edmonde Shawe Goldcsmythe then Mayre of the cytie with the Aldermenne
and shreues in skarlet, and fyue hundreth commoners in murraye reccyued his
grace reuerently at Harnesay Parke [Now Hornsey Park, in north London], and so
conueighed him to the cytee, where he entred the fourth day of May, in the
fyrst and last yere of his reigne, aud was lodged in the bishoppe of Londons
Palayce: but ye duke of Gloucester bare him in open sight so reuerently, saying
to all men as he rode behold your prince and souereigne lord, and made such
sembleaunce of lowlynes to his prince, that from the great obloquy that he was
in so late before, he was sodenly fallen in so great trust that at the councel
next assembled he was made the onely chiefe ruler, and thought most mete to be
protectoure of the king and his realme:so that, were it destiny or were it
foly, the lambe was betaken to the wolfe to kepe. At whiche councell the
Archebishop of Yorke was sore blamed for deliueryng the great seale to the
quene, and the seale taken from him and deliuered to doctor Ihon Russel bishop
of Lyncolne, a wyse man and a good and of much experience, and diuerse lordes
and knyghtes were appointed to diuerse roumes, the lord Chamberlayne and some
other kept the roumes that they wer in before, but not many.
Now were it so that the protectour
(which alwayes you must take for the duke of Gloucester) sore thristed for the
acheuynge of his pretensed enterpryse and thought euery daye a yere tyll it
were perfourmed, yet durste he no further attempt as long as he had but half
his pray in his hand, well wittyng that yf he deposed the one brother, all the
realme woulde fall to the other, yf he
remayned either in sanctuarye or shoulde happely be shortly conueighed to his
fathers libertie. Whcrfore incontinent at the next metynge of the lordes in
councel he purposed to them that it was an heynous thyng of the quene, and
procedyng of great malice toward the
kynges councelers that she shoulde kepe the kynges brother in sanctuarye from
him whose speciall pleasure and comfort were to haue his brother with him, and
that to be done by her to none other intent, but to brynge all the lordes in an
obloquy and murmoure of the people, as though they were not to be trusted with
the kynges brother, whiche lordes were by the whole assent of the nobles of the
realme appointed as the kynges nere frendes to the tuycion of his royall
person, the prosperitee wherof (quod he) standeth not alonely in kepynge from
enemies and euill dyate, but partly also in recreacion & moderate pleasure,
whiclie he cannot take in his tendre youth in the cotnpaignye of old and
auncient persones, but in the familiare conuersacion of those that be not far
vnder nor farre aboue his age, and neuerthelesse, of estate conueniente to
accompany his maiestie, wherfore with whom rather then with his owne brother?
and yf any man thynke this consideracion lighte (I thynke no man so thynketh
that loueth the king) let hym consider that somtyme without smal thynges,
greater cannot stand, and verely it redouneth greatly to the dishonour of the
kynges highnes and of all vs that be about his grace to haue it come in any
mans mouth, not in this realme onely, but also in other landes (as euill wordes
walke far) that yr kynges brother should be fayne to kepe sanctuary. For euery
man wyll iudge that no man wyll so do for nought, and such opinions fastened in
mens hartes be harde to be wrested out, and may grow to more grief then any man
here can diuine. Wherfore me thinketh it were not ye worst to send to the quene
some honourable and trustie personage, such as tendreth the kings weale and the
honour of his councell, and is also in credite and fauoure with her: for which
consideracions none semeth more metely to me then the reuerend father my lorde
Cardinall archebishop of Cauntorbury, who may in this matter do most good of
all men yf it please him to take the payne, whiche I doubt not of his goodnes
he will not refuse for the kings sake and ours and wealth of the young duke him
selfe the kings most honorable brother, and for the conforte of my souereigne
lorde hym self my most dearest nephiewe, considcryng that therby shalbe ceased
the slaunderous rumore and obloquy now going abrode, and the hurtes auoyded
that therof might ensue, and then must rest and quietnesse growe to all the
realme. And yf she percase be so obstinate and so precisely set in her own will
and opinion, that neither his wyse and faithfull aduertisemente can moue her
nor any mans reason satisfye her, then shall we by myne aduice by the kynges
authorytee fetch hym out of that prison and brynge him to his noble presence,
in whose continuall compaignye he shalbee so well cheryshed and so honorably
intreated that all the worlde shall to our honour and her reproche perceiue
that it was onely malice, frowardnesse and foly, that caused her to kepe him
there. This is my mind for this time, except that any of you my lordes any
thyng perceyue to the contrari, for neuer shal I by Gods grace so wed my self
vnto myne owne wil, but I shalbe redy to chaunge it vpon your better aduices.
When the Protectour had sayde, all
the councell affirmed that the mocion was good and reasonable, and to the king
and the duke his brother honourable, and a thyng that should ceasse great
murmoure in the realme, yf the mother might by good meanes be induced to
delyuer him: whiche thing the Archebishop of Cauntorburye, whom they all agreed
also to be moost conuenient therunto, tooke vpon hym to moue her, and therto to
do his vttermooste endeuoure. Howbeit yf
she coulde in no wise be intreated with her good wyll to delyuer hym, then
thought he and such of the spiritualtie as wer present, that it were not in any
wyse too bee attempted to take hym out againste her wyll, for it woulde be a
thyng that should turne to the grudge of all men and high displeasure of God,
yf the pryuilege of that place should be broken whiche had so many yeres bene
kept, whiche bothe Kynges and Popes had graunted and confirmed, which ground
was sanctifyed by Sainct Peter him selfe more then fyue hundreth yeres agone.
And syth that tyrne, was neuer so vndeuoute a kynge that euer enterprised that
sacred priuilege to violate, nor so holy a byshop that durste presume the church
of the same to consecrate: and therefore quod the Archebishop, God forbid that
any manne shoulde for any yearthely enterprise breake the immunitie and
libertie of that sacred sanctuary that hath bene the safegard of so many a good
mans life, but I trust quod he, we shall not ncde it, but for any maner of nede
I would we should not do it, I trust that she with reason shalbe contented and
all thing in good maner obteined. And yf it hap that I brynge it not to passe,
yet shall I further it to my best power, so that you all shall pcrceyue my good
wyll, diligence, and indeauourc: But the mothers drcade and womanishe feare
shalbe the let yf any be.
It gets worse...
