prince for his frankness and offer; but withall I must tell your lordship, that, when I came from Scotland, neither my brethren nor I apprehended any such revolution as I have seen now in England, and therefore I neither was, nor could be, instructed by them what answer to make to the prince's offer, and therefore what I say, is not in their name, but only my private opinion; which is, that I truly think they will not serve the prince so as he is served in England, that is, as I take it, to make him their king, nor give their suffrage for his being king; and though as to this matter, I can say nothing in their name, and as from them, yet for myself I must say, that, rather than do so, I will abandon all the interest that either I have, or may expect to have, in Britain. Upon this the bishop commended my openness and ingenuity, and said he believed it was so; for, says he, all the time you have been here, neither have you waited on the king, nor have any of your brethren, the Scots bishops, made any address to him, so the king must be excused for standing by the Presbyterians. Immediately upon this, the prince going somewhere abroad, comes through our room, and sir George Mackenzie takes leave of him, in very few words. I applied to the bishop, and said, My lord, there is now no farther place for application, in our church matters, and this opportunity for taking leave of the prince is lost; wherefore I beg that your lordship would introduce me for that effect, if you can, next day about ten or eleven in the forenoon, which his lordship promised and performed; and upon my being admitted into the prince's presence, he came three or four steps forward from his company, and prevented me, by saying, My lord, are you going for Scotland? My reply was, Yes, sir, if you have any commands for me. Then he said, I hope you will be kind to me, and follow the example of England; wherefore being somewhat difficulted how to make a mannerly and discreet answer, without entangling myself, I readily replied, Sir, I will serve you so far as law, reason, or conscience will allow me. How this answer pleased I cannot well tell, but it seems the limitations and conditions of it were not acceptable, for instantly the prince, without saying any more, turned away from me and went back to his company. Considering what had passed the day before, I was much surprised to find the prince accost me in these terms; but I presume, that either the bishop (not having time) had not acquainted him with what had passed, or that the prince proposed to try what might be nade of me by the honour he did me of that immediate demand. And as that was the first, so it was the last time, I had the honour to speak with his highness. The things I write were not only upon the matter, but in the self-same individual words, that I have set them down. Whether what the bishop of London delivered as from the prince, was so, or not, I cannot certainly say; but I think his lordship's word was good enough for that: or whether the prince would have stood by his promise, of casting off the presbyterians and protecting us, in case we had come in to his interest, I will not determine; though this seems the most probable to me, and that for these reasons: he had the Presbyterians sure on his side, both from inclination and interest, many of them having come over with him, and the rest having appeared so warmly for him, that with no good grace, imaginable, could they return to king James's interest; next by gaining, as he might presume to gain, the episcopal nobility and gentry, which he saw was a great party, and consequently that king James would be deprived of his principal support; then he saw what a hardship it would be upon the church of England, and of what bad consequence to see episcopacy ruined in Scotland; who no doubt would have vigorously interposed for us, if we by our carriage could have been brought to justify their mea sures. And I am the more confirmed in this, for after my coming down here, my lord St. Andrew and I taking occasion to wait on duke Hamilton, his grace told us, a day or two before the sitting down of the convention, that he had it in special charge from king William, that nothing should be done to the prejudice of episcopacy in Scotland, in case the bishops could by any means be brought to befriend his interest, and prayed us most pathetically for our own sake to follow the example of the church of England; to which my lord St. Andrew replied, that both by natural allegiance, the laws, and the most solemn oaths, we were engaged in the king's interest, and that we were by God's grace to stand by it in the face of all dangers, and to the greatest losses; subjoining that his grace's quality and influence put it in his hands to do his majesty the greatest service, and himself the surest honour; and if he acted otherwise, it might readily lie as a heavy tache and curse both upon him.❤ self and his family. I can say no more for want of paper, save that I am as before, 1774, April. ALEX. EDINE. XVIII. Account of King John's Death, from an ancient MS, Mr. URBAN, I SEND you herewith, copied from an ancient MS. in my possession, an account of the death of King John, which Rapin rejects, (and his translator after him), because no contemporary writer mentions the same, and on the improbability of a man poisoning himself to be revenged of another. A dissertator on the history of this reign however (whose tract is added to the fifth volume of the last octavo edition) gives very good reasons for receiving this account, which (according to Mr. Tindal) is first mentioned in English by Caxton, a monk. Whether this MS. history, which is continued down to the beginning of the reign of Edward the third, and comes with internal evidence of being the production of a monkish writer, be written by that Caxton, I leave to some of your ingenious correspondents to deter mine. "The barons of Engelond had so hughe partye and helpe thurgh Lowys the kynges sone of Fraunce, that kyng John wist not whider for to turne, ne gone; and so it felle, that he wolde have gon to Nichole, and as he wente thiderward he come to the abbey of Swyneshened,† and ther he abode ij dayes. And as he sat at mete, he axed a monke of the hows, how meche a lof was worth that was set byfore hym at the table; and the monke seide that the lof was worth but an halfpenny. "O, quod he, tho here is gret chepe of breed; now, quod the kyng, & I may lyve such a lof schal be worth xxd. or half yeer be agon." And when he had seyd this word mych he thoghte & oft tyme siked, and nomet & ete of the breed, and seyd, "be God the word I have spoke it schal be soth." The monke that stood before the kyng, was for this woord fol sory in herte, and thoghte rathere he wold hymselfe souffre pitous deth, and thoght if he myghte ordeigne therefore some maner remedye. And anone the monke went to his abbot, & was schreven of hym & told the abbot al that the kyng seyde, and prayed bis abbot for to assoyle|| him, for he wold geve the kyng such a watsayll¶ that all Engelond schuld be glad thereof, *Lincoln. Rapin. confessed by him. +Swines-head, or Swinstead. ‡ took. ¶ Watsayll, wassail or wassel, a Saxon phrase used on drinking healths, literally signifying your health; from thence the bowl used on this occasion & joyfull, Tho went the monke into a gardyn, & fonde a gret tode therin; & nome her up, & put here in a cuppe, & felled it with good good ale, & prickked the tode thurgh with a broche* meny tymes, tul that the venyme come out in eche side, in to the cuppe. And tho nome the cuppe & broght it before the kyng, and knelyng seyde, "Sir, quod he, watsayll, for never dayes of youre lyf ne dronk ye of such a cuppe." "The begynne, monke," quod the kyng; & the monke dranke a gret draught & toke the kyng the cuppe, & the kyng also dranke a gret draught, and set doun the cuppe. The monke anon right went into the fermery,t & ther dide anon, on whos soule God have mercy. Amen. And fyve monkes syngen for his soule speciallich,‡ & schul while the abbey stant. The kyng aros up anon ful evyl at ese, & commanded to remove the table, and axed after the monke, and men told him that he was dede, for his wombe was broke in sunder. When the kyng herd this tydynge he commanded for to trusse, but al it was for noght for his bely began so to swelle for the drynk that he drank, that he dide withinne ij dayes aftir in the castell of Newerk, and his body was yburyed at Wynchestre.§" 1785, March. XIX. Memoirs of Richard Plantagenet, (a natural Son of King Richard III.) who died 22d. Dec. 1550. (4. Edw. VI.) In a Let ter from Dr. Thomas Brett, to Dr. William Warren, President of Trinity Hall. DEAR WILL, ***NOW for the story of Richard Plantagenet. In the year 1720, (I have forgot the particular day, only remember it was about Michaelmas) I waited on the late lord Heneage, earl of Winchelsea, at Eastwell-house, and found him sitting with the register of the parish of Eastwell lying open before him. He told me, that he had been looking there to see who of his own family were mentioned in it. But, says he, I have a curiosity here to show you. was called a wassel-bowl. John being descended from the Saxon race of kings, the monk's address on this occasion was peculiarly flattering, and may be supposed very pleasing to the king. A spit, or any sharp instrument. It is a French word. + The Infirmary. It should be Worcester. And then shewed me, and I immediately transcribed it into my almanack, "Richard Plantagenet was buryed the 22d. daye of December, anno ut supra. Ex Registro de Eastwell, sub anno, 1550." This is all the register mentions of him; so that we cannot say, whether he was buried in the church or church-yard; nor is there now any other memorial of him except the tradition in the family, and some little marks where his house stood. The story my lord told me was this: When sir Thomas Moyle built that house, (EastwellPlace) he observed his chief bricklayer, whenever he left off work retired with a book. Sir Thomas had curiosity to know what book the man read; but was some time before he could discover it; he still putting the book up if any one came toward him. However, at last, sir Thomas surprised him, and snatched the book from him, and looking into it found it to be Latin. Hereupon, he examined hin, and finding he pretty well understood that language, he inquired, how he came by his learning hereupon, the man told him, as he had been a good master to him, he would venture to trust him with a secret he had never before revealed to any one. He then informed him, that he was boarded with a Latin school-master, without knowing who his parents were, till he was fifteen or sixteen years old; only a gentleman (who took occasion to acquaint him he was no relation to him) came once a quarter, and paid for his board, and took care to see that he wanted nothing. And, one day, this gentleman took him, and carried him to a fine great house, where he passed through several stately rooms, in one of which he left him, bidding him stay there. Then a man, finely drest with a star and garter, came to him; asked him some questions, talked kindly to him, and gave him some money. Then the fore-mentioned gentleman returned, and conducted him back to his school. Some time after, the same gentleman came to him again, with a horse and proper accoutrements, and told him, he must take a journey with him into the country. They went into Leicestershire, and came to Bosworth field; and he was carried to king Richard III.'s tent. The king embraced him, and told him he was his son. "But, child," says he, "to-morrow I must fight for my crown. And, assure yourself, if I lose that, I will lose my life too: but I hope to preserve both. Do you stand in such a place, (directing him to a particular place) where you may see the battle, out of danger. And when I have gained the victory, come |