the signs of some inward perturbation. A silence ensued for some time; and the lords of the council looked upon each other, expecting some horrid catastrophe. Laying bare his arm all shrivelled and decayed, he accused Jane Shore and her accomplices of having produced this deformity by their sorceries; upon which Hastings cried, "If they have committed such a crime, they deserve punishment." "If!" cried the protector with a loud voice, "dost thou answer me with ifs? I tell thee that they have conspired any death; and that thou, traitor, art an accomplice in the crime." He then struck the table twice with his hands, and the room was instantly filled with armed men. "I arrest thee," continued he, turning to Hastings, "for high treason;" and at the same time gave him in charge to the soldiers. Hastings was obliged to make a short confession to the next priest that was at hand; the protector crying out by St. Paul, that he would not dine till he had seen his head taken off. He was accordingly hurried out to the Little Green before the Tower chapel, and there beheaded on a log of wood that accidentally lay in the way.

Jane Shore, the late king's mistress, was the next who felt his indignation. This unfortunate woman was an enemy too humble to excite his jealousy; yet as he had accused her of witchcraft, of which she was innocent, he thought proper to make her an example for those faults of which she was really guilty. Jane Shore had been formerly deluded from her husband, who was a goldsmith in Lombard-street, and continued to live with Edward, the most guiltless mistress in his abandoned court. The charge against her was too notorious to be denied; she pleaded guilty, and was accordingly condemned to walk barefoot through the city, and do penance in St. Paul's church in a white sheet, with a wax taper in her hand, before thousands of spectators. She lived above forty years after this sentence, and was reduced to the most extreme indigence.

The protector now began to throw off the mask, and to deny his pretended regard for the sons of the late king, thinking it high time to aspire to the throne more openly. He had previously gained over the duke of Buckingham, a man of talents and power, by bribes and promises of future favour. This nobleman, therefore, used all his arts to cajole the populace and citizens at St. Paul's cross, and construing

their silence into consent, his followers cried, " Long live king Richard!" Soon after the mayor and aldermen waiting upon Richard with an offer of the crown, he accepted it with seeming reluctance,

CHAPTER XXI.

RICHARD III.

A. D. 1483-1485.

ONE crime ever draws on another; justice will revolt against fraud, and usurpation requires security. As soon, therefore, as Richard was seated upon the throne, he sent the governor of the Tower orders to put the two young princes to death; but this brave man, whose name was Brackenbury, submissively answered, that he knew not how to imbrue his hands in innocent blood. Sir James Tyrrel, however, readily undertook the office, and Brackenbury was ordered to resign to him the keys for one night. Tyrrel choosing three associates, Slater, Deighton, and Forest, came in the night-time to the door of the chamber where the princes were lodged, and sending in the assassins, he bid them execute their commission, while he himself staid without. They found the young princes in bed, and fallen into a sound sleep: after suffocating them with the bolster and pillows, they shewed their naked bodies to Tyrrel, who ordered them to be buried at the stair foot, deep in the ground, under a heap of stones.

But while Richard thus endeavoured to establish his power, the duke of Buckingham, who had been instrumental in placing him on the throne, took disgust at being refused some confiscated lands for which he solicited. He therefore levied a body of men in Wales, and` advanced, by hasty marches, towards Gloucester, where he designed to cross the Severn. Just at that time the river was swoln to such a degree, that the country on both sides was deluged, and even the tops of some hills were covered with water. This inundation continued for fen days; during which Buckingham's army, composed of Welshmen, could neither pass the river, nor find subsistence on their own side; they were, therefore, obliged to disperse and return home, notwithstanding all the duke's efforts to prolong their stay. In this helpless situation the duke, after a short deliberation, took refuge at the house of one Banister, who

had been mis servant, and who had received repeated obligations from his family; but Banister, unable to resist the temptation of a large reward that was set upon the duke's head, went and betrayed him to the sheriff of Shropshire; who seized the duke, in. the habit of a peasant, and conducted him to Salisbury; where he was instantly tried, condemned, and executed. Information now came that the earl of Richmond was making preparations to land in England, and assert his claims to the crown. Richard, who knew not in what quarter he might expect the invader, had taken post at Nottingham, in the centre of the kingdom, and made preparations to oppose the enemy wherever he should land.

Some time after, however, the earl of Richmond, who was a descendant from John of Gaunt, by the female line, resolved to strike for the crown. He had been long obnoxious to the house of York, and had been obliged to quit the kingdom; but he now knowing how odious the king was, set out from Harfleur in Normandy, with a retinue of about two thousand persons; and after a voyage of six days arrived at Milford-haven, in Wales, where he landed without opposition. Upon news of this descent, Richard, who was possessed of courage and military conduct, his only virtues, instantly resolved to meet his antagonist in battle. Richmond, on the other hand, being reinforced by Sir Thomas Bourchier, Sir Walter Hungerford, and others, to the number of about six thousand, boldly advanced; and in a few days both armies drew near Bosworth-field, where the contest that had now for more than forty years filled the kingdom with civil commotions, and deluged its plains with blood, was determined by the death of Richard, who was slain in battle, while Richmond was saluted king, by the title of Henry the Seventh.

CHAPTER XXII.

HENRY VII.

A. D. 1485-1509

HENRY's first care upon coming to the throne was, to marry the princess Elizabeth, daughter of Edward the Fourth; and thus he blended the interests of the houses of York and Lancaster, so that ever after they were incapable

of distinction. A great part of the miseries of his predecessors proceeded from their poverty, which was mostly occasioned by riot and dissipation. Henry saw that money alone could turn the scale of power in his favour; and, therefore, hoarded up all the confiscations of his enemies with the utmost frugality. Immediately after his marriage with Elizabeth, he issued a general pardon to all such as chose to accept it; but people were become so turbulent and factious by a long course of civil war, that no governor could rule them, nor any king please; so that one rebellion seemed extinguished only to give rise to another.

There lived in Oxford one Richard Simon, a priest, who possessing some subtlety, and more rashness, trained up Lambert Simmel, a baker's son, to counterfeit the person of the earl of Warwick, the son of the duke of Clarence, who was smothered in a butt of malmsey. But as the impostor was not calculated to bear close inspection, it was thought proper to shew him first at a distance; and Ireland was judged the fittest theatre for him to support his assumed character.

In this manner king Simnel, being joined by lord Lovel, and one or two more lurds of the discontented party, resolved to pass over into England; and accordingly landed in Lancashire, from whence he marched to York, expecting the country would rise and join him. But in this he was deceived; the people, averse to join a body of German and Irish troops, by whom he was supported, and kept in awe by the king's reputation, remained in tranquillity, or gave all their assistance to the royal cause. The earl of Lincoln, therefore, to whom the command of the rebel army was given, determined to bring the contest to a short issue. The opposite armies met at Stoke, in the county of Nottingham, and fought a battle, which was more bloody, and more obstinately disputed, than could have been expected from the inequality of their forces. But victory at length declared in favour of the king, and it proved decisive. Lord Lincoln perished in the field of battle; lord Lovel was never more heard of, and it is supposed he shared the same fate. Simnel, with bis tutor Simon, were taken prisoners; and four thousand of the common mer: fell in battle. Simon, being a priest, could not be tried by the civil power, and was only committed to close confine. ment. Simnel was too contemptible to excite the king' fears or resentment; he was pardoned, and made a scullion

in the king's kitchen, whence he was afterwards advanced to the rank of falconer, in which mean employment he died.

A fresh insurrection began in Yorkshire; the people resisting the commissioners who were appointed to levy the taxes, the earl of Northumberland attempted to enforce the king's commands; but the populace, being by this taught to believe that he was the adviser of their oppressions, flew to arms, attacked his house, and put him to death, and by the advice of one John Achamber, a seditious fellow of mean birth, they chose Sir John Egremont for their leader, and prepared themselves for a vigorous resistance. The king, upon hearing this rash proceeding, immediately levied a force which he put under the earl of Surry; and this nobleman encountering the rebels, dissipated the tumult, and took their leader, Achamber, prisoner. Achamber was shortly afterwards executed, but Sir John Egremont fled to the court of the duchess of Burgundy, the usual retreat of all who were obnoxious to government in England.

A. D.

1492.

One would have imagined, that from the ill success of Simnel's imposture, few would be willing to embark in another of a similar kind, however, this duchess of Burgundy was determined to disturb that government, which she could not subvert. She first procured a report to be spread, that the young duke of York, said to have been murdered in the Tower, was still living; and finding the rumour greedily received, she soon produced a young man who assumed his name and character. The person pitched upon to sustain this part was one Osbeck, or Warbeck, the son of a converted Jew, who had been over in England during the reign of Edward the Fourth, where he had this son named Peter, but corrupted after the Flemish n.anner into Peterkin, or Perkin. The duchess of Burgundy found this youth entirely suited to her purposes; and her instructions to personate the duke of York, were easily learned by a youth of very quick apprehension, while his graceful air, his courtly address, his easy manners, and elegant conversation, were capable of imposing upon all but such as were conscious of the imposture. The English, ever ready to revolt, gave credit to all these absurdities; while the young man's prudence served to confirm them.

Among those who secretly abetted the cause of Perkin, were lord Fitzwalter, Sir Simon Montford, Sir Thomas