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Fames Trumpet soundinge

Or Commemorations of the famous liues and deathes, of the two right honourable Knights of England: the right honourable Sir Walter Mildmay, and Sir Martin Calthrop, Lord Mayor of this honorable Citty of London, who deceased this yeere 1589. Not onely necessary to bee seene, but also to be followed of euery worthy personage in their callings. Written by Henry Robarts

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Loe heere a Mildmay milde, a Counseller most graue,
A worthy man in all his deeds, as one could wish or haue:
A Phœnix in this life, to God and Prince most iust,
In Commons cause and publicke weale, a man of perfect trust.



To the right worshipfull, and most vertuous minded Gentleman, Ma. Anthony Mildmay Esquire, Henry Robarts your worships in hart most affected, wysheth the continuall encrease of all worldly promotions, and after death the life eternall.


The honorable life and death of the most famous and noble Counseller, Sir VValter Mildmay knight, one of her highnes most honourable priuie Counsell, & Chaunceller of the Court of the Exchequer, who departed this life, at his house in great S. Bartholmewes, the 30. of May last passed.

What shrikes, & plaints, what heauie mourning cryes
Doo pearce mine eares, and fil my hart with mone?
With wringing hands what meanes this wofull noyse,
Those direful tunes from harts deepe spent with grone.
Why walke you thus like men with greefe forlorne,
What wofull chance hath you behapt of late,
What causeth thus so heauy mourning state.
Why greeues the Phœnix of this Westerne Ile?
Why mournes her Peeres and Nobles of her land?
What cause haue they all mirth for to exile,
And Commons eke in such sad dumps to stand,
At pleasure theirs, which may so much commaund.
No losse of treasure nor Iewels of what store,
Could cause you thus with teares for to deplore.
Tell then deere freends, the cause of your annoy,
Explaine the greefe that doth your harts offend,
Tell tell the cause you cease your wonted ioy
And whollie nowe to sorrowes yoke thus bend,
Yeelding such sighs as to the heauens ascend.
Such teares, such greefe, such heauie morning mone,
Mongst Commons all, full sildome hath beene knowne.
When Common wealth doth lose a noble freend,
A staffe of comfort to the Commons all,
A Iustice good, which poore mens cause will tend,
And lend his eare to harken to their call,
Such losse, such lacke, the Commons harts doth gall.
Loe such an one hath late resignd his breath,
By cursed hand of fierce and cruell death.


Mildmay, graue Knight of Counsell to our Queene,

He was one of the priuie Counsell to her Maiestie and Chaūcelour of the Exchequer.

Of Th' exchequer Court the Chauncellor that was,

In honors place that oftentimes was seene,
And highlie stood in fauour of her grace,
By cruell death is reft from noble place,
Entomb'd in earth his corps doo now remaine,
The losse of whom doth cause vs thus complaine.
Mildmay by name, was milde in all his deedes,
Pure was his thoughts, like gold his vertues shine,
His vpright iustice fewe or none exceedes,
To poore nor rich he neuer would encline
But right with right, as Lawes did him assigne.
To euery man he iustice did impart,
As cause requird, and equitie of hart.
For Princes cause, as his allegeance bound
And duetie of that honorable place,
He carefull was, his actions also sounde,
With conscience pure he wayed euery case.
As well for Commons, as profit to her grace.
That Prince nor Subiects had iust cause to say,
Mildmay hath wrongd vs any kind of way.
When poore complaind he ready was to heare,
To ease their greefe was cheefe of his delight,
When poore opprest was forced to appeare,
In Exchequer Court, where he their cause might right.
He was their help, he freed their enemies spite,
Yea, Mildmay euer was the man they sought,
Who many a cause to happy end hath brought.

He neuer gaue any aduise that was against the benefit of the pore.

As Solon graue his counsell was full sweete

When he was set mongst Nobles of the lande,
For Commons good his counsell was most meete,
And for their wealth, as for his Prince would stand,
With reuerent care of what he had in hand.
To glory of God, to Commons welth and good,
Through grace of him that bought vs with his blood.


Thus as at home, so in affaires abroade,
When Prince did please his seruice to commaund,
Ambassadour to King of France he yode

He was Ambassadour in France.


From gracious Queene to giue him vnderstand,
What was his charge vnder her highnes hand.
Which place of trust he did discharge so well,
As France reports his wisdome did excell.
His grauitie and bountie great withall,
The French admire, and him a Cæsar name,
Cato for wisedome, for prowesse Haniball,
His courage such as gained endlesse fame,
Amongst French Nobles which beheld the same.
Where Mildmay liues, though death his life hath tane,
And still shall liue, eternized by fame.
His valour showne in person braue and stoute,

In Queene Maries time he serued against Wyat with 150. men on horsebacke at his proper costes.


Ile not omit when Prince his ayde did neede.
Seauen score odde men on horseback in a route
All furnisht well to doe some noble deede,
At his owne cost, they forward did proceede.
Against Sir Wyat to defende her right,
For which desert she dubt him then a Knight.
There did he shewe his noble valiant hart,
In cheefest prease did Mildmay venture forth,
Where like himselfe he shewd his conquering hart,
And with his sword made proofe of mickle worth.
Showing thereby his loyaltie and truth,
To Prince to God, and to his Countrey both,
As subiect good according to his othe.
When Spanyards proude disturbt our quiet land,
And noble Lords did showe theyr warlike traines,
For Countries good all states employd their hand,
To fight for Prince, and put our foes to paines,
Then Mildmay showed without regard of gaines,
A band of men, with horse appointed well,
Lead by his Sonne, whose valoure did excell.


Who like a branche from Mildmaies loynes esprong,
Most Lyon like yong Anthony did attend
On enemies backs, with branding blade to ha'rung
Such valiant strokes, as Spanyardes liues should ende.
Most resolute in what he did pretend.
Showing hereby a noble Mildmayes hart,
Foe to all such as sought his Countries smart.
Thus as in Court to counsell he was fit,
So in the field like seruice he hath doone,
His Counsell sage, his prudent readie wit
By golden trompe throughout the world doth run,
Whose fame shall liue so long as shines the sunne.
For vertuous life, for counsell graue and wise,
Mildmay our Knight was held in worthy prise.
A booke in print nowe extant to be seene,

A note to knowe a good man.

Did Mildmay write vnto his lasting praise,

Of counsell good all states that may be seene,
To frame their liues, both God and world to please
As well in house as other kind of waies.
By which is seene of Common welth his care,
Such godly mind his liuing doth declare.

He foūded Emanuell Colledge in Cambridge at his owne proper costes.

His zeale to learning, and maintaine the same

The world doth know if I forget to tell,
In Cambridge Towne he late a house did frame,
A Colledge faire, which hight Emanuell.
Placing a manie of poore schollers there to dwell.
For whose maintainance as by record appeare,
He giues for euer four hundreth pound a yeere.
And like a Patrone which did learning loue,
With graue foresight he poore men first there plast,
Prescribing rules from which they may not mooue,
So long as Manuell monument doth last,
A worthy note for Nobles that are plast
In high estate to imitate his waies,
Which vertue sought vnto his ending daies.


A number more most charitable deedes,
Sweet Mildmay did, which merits to be told,
His rule in house, releeuing pooremens needes,
Deserues by fame to be engrauen in Gold.
That as in glasse they able, may behold
What famous works our Mildmay wise hath doone,
Whose worth shall liue so long as shines the sunne.
Yet life must end, nature her due will haue,
This wretched life a pilgrimage vnsure,
We needes must leaue when death the some doth craue,
No mortall flesh his stroke that may endure,
No golde or fee his freendship can procure.
The olde the yong, the Prince, the Lord or Knight,
To earth must pay what so is hers by right.
This man of God, our noble Mildmay Knight,
This Lampe of honor, this Iewell of our lande,
To Death hath yeelded what was his by right,
For what is he that death cannot commande,
Yea all estates obeyes his direfull hand.
And death in spite hath doone our Country wrong,
By striking him that might haue liued long.
But as he liued so likewise did he die,
A constant seruant of our Sauiour Christ,
On him alone with faith did he relie,
Hoping to rest with him that is the hiest,
All popish rites with hart he did detest.
Calling on God that with his blood vs bought,
And by his death our free redemption wrought.
Mildmay farewell, thy losse we all lament,
Our cheefest staffe, thou Commons onely trust,
The poore and rich thy frindship oft shall want,
For whom thy care was louing, kind and iust,
Firme vnto all which did thy fauour trust.
Thy losse, thy lacke, we pooremen may complaine,
When Prince and Peeres, to teares thy death constraine.


Thy childrens teares might mooue a hart of flint,
To see them waile their aged Sires decease,
From sighes and sobs that day nor night doth stint,
Thy seruants sorrowes likewise doth increase
Crying out on death which so disturbs their peace.
Reauing from hence their Maister (vertuous Knight,)
That gemme of worth, our Lampe of English light.
Cease worthie Gentils, cease Mildmaies children cease,
Leaue to lament, leaue shedding bootlesse teares,
Your aged Knight with Christ doth rest in peace,
In heauenly seate as one of his coheares,
A chosen place for those his name that feares,
Where you with him in glory once shall meete,
And see him shine by Christ like Angell sweete.
Sweet natures buds of Mildmaies famous tree,
Surcease those plaints, leaue fathers death to mone,
And let his life and godly ending be,
A Mirror good for you to gaze vppon.
Yea let him rest intombed vnder stone.
But see your deedes, your actions, and your waies
Doo gaine you fame, and father endlesse praise.
The fruite that springs doth shew the vertuous tree,
Such doo you seeme as noble Sire hath beene,
Your vertuous liues the world doth hope to see,
Gaine Commons loue and fauour of the Queene,
In honors place like Mildmay dead to shine.
Such loue, such fauour euer doo I pray,
Pleasd God to grant sweet Anthony Mildmay.
Finis.
H. R.


Londons Lamentation for the losse of theyr worthy and famous Lorde Mayor, Syr Martin Calthrop Knight. Who departed this life in Aprill last passed. 1589.

In Lacedemon, Lycurgus once did dwell,
Renowned far for prudent sage aduise,
His counsell graue fewe liuing did excell,
In Lacedemon helde he was of prise,
As with his yeeres, so did his credite rise.
His godlie life, his iustice vsde with lawe,
From greeuous sinnes his people oft did draw.
Cato in Rome, for wysedome might compare,
With anie one that liued in those daies,
Unto his charge he had a fathers care,
To traine them vp as God the best might please,
He to the iust was friend at all assaies.
And iustice vsed according vnto right,
Without regard of poore, or men of might.
Lycurgus dead, Lacedemon mournd amaine,
And wayld with teares his losse whom they did loue,
Whose wisedome knowne, their honors did maintaine,
Yea oftentimes his counsell many proue,
Whose conscience cleere like to the Turtle doue,
Did shewe his care to maintaine their renowne,
That liu'de with him in this most happy Towne.
For Catoes life whom death hath likewise reft,
Romes Consuls mourne in weedes of wofull blacke,
In Rome say they his peere there is not left,
Which for his charge both day and night would carke.
Unto the Senate he may be a marke.
To ayme aright, and iustice so to vse
As their estates by wrongs they nill abuse.


Amongst the rest that mourne their Consuls want,
Let famous London presse in place to showe,
In weedes of woe with teares for to lament,
The losse of him for whom they sorrowe so,
Ye London Cittizens, now explaine your woe.
For Calthrop graue, who late resignd his breth
And natures due, hath yeelded vnto death.
Our Cato wise, our Calthrop peerelesse Knight,
Lord Mayor of London, blessed in her name,
To earth hath yeelded what was hers by right,
Ye in that yeere he to his honor came,
By Death was forced to resigne the same,
To Londons losse, and Commons sorrow great,
For Calthrops death then cheefe in Iustice seate.
Calthrop Lord Mayor the Commons all thus cry,
Which late did liue in tipe of hie renowne,
Beloued of Prince, beloued of Commontie,
Beloued of all in louelie London Towne,
From high estate loe death hath taken downe,
To rest with him entombed in the earth,
Untill Christ come, that bought vs with his death.
A worshipfull of Drapers Companie,
Was Calthrop graue, when he with vs did liue.
Of birth a Gentleman of Norfolke Countie,
As wel was seene by auncient cotes he geeue,
For whose decease his kinne and friends may grieue.
Threescore odde yeeres by number of record,
He liued in fame, and died at last a Lord.
In Iunos right, with Matron wife he linckt,
From out whose lines branches most sweete did spring,
By whom he liues, though death hath causde him shrinke,
Yet of his worth my Muse a while shall sing,
And cheeflie touch one honorable thing
Calthrop performd not long before his death,
His entertainment of Queene Elizabeth.


When royall Prince of her most gracious loue,
To famous London did pretend to come,
Then Calthrop graue her Cittizens to proue
Did notice giue, and warned all and some
Each man should ready be in his appointed roome,
To giue her grace the welcome that was meete,
For louing Subiects to a Queene so sweete.
Which by his doome most brauely was performde,
In royall order sparing for no cost,
By Calthrops counsell, whose honor yet consernde
In such braue sort as Cittizens may boast,
Their paines and charges nere a whit was lost.
For graciously each thing she did esteeme,
And gaue them thankes most like a royall Queene.
But Calthrop cheefe with grace she did reward,
Through whose foresight her welcome was the more,
To Aldermen she had a like regard,
And curteously as she had doone of yore,
Unto Lord Mayor her princelie Mace that bore,
With hartie thanks their zeale she did requite,
Which with such pompe had pleasde her princely sight.
Thus of our Queene did Calthrop merit fame,
And fauour such as sildome hath beene showne,
For which deserts honor extols his name,
And fame with trompe shall make him better knowne
In London Cittie, where he did sit in throne
Of Iustice, ministring his Princes lawes,
As right requirde and equitie of cause.
Whose care to rule in honourable state,
Was such as London might full well beseeme,
He iustice vsed with such an vpright rate
As Salomon for wisedome he had beene,
Pleasing to God and to our gracious Queene.
Religion pure he did so much regard,
As zealous preachers dailie he preferd.


Pittie had place within his tender hart,
As manie in distressed state can tell,
Whose hand was ready alwaies to impart
To such as in behauiour vsde them well,
As many in this Cittie walles can tell.
To fatherlesse, the widdow and the Mayd,
His greatest fauour neuer was denayd.
The poore with weeping wayle and wring their handes,
And sighing say, gone is our chiefest trust,
The prisoner poore which lies in sorrowes bands,
Defie the Fates that closde thee in the dust,
Who in thy actions was mercifull and iust.
And with thy purse was ready still to giue,
Their needie state, thy bountie did releeue.
When they recount thy charitable deedes,
And thinke howe death hath nowe bereft their ioy,
Sad heauie lookes and teares from eyes proceedes,
Cursing fell death the cause of their anoy,
Which in his furie our comfort did destroy.
Reauing his life which might haue liued long,
Of enuious mind to doe the Commons wrong.
If cruell thou hadst wayde our Common good,
Thou would'st haue spard to shred his vitall thred,
And not haue sought so soone his peerelesse blood,
That all the poore within those gates should neede.
But Sisters three with thee had so decreed.
That die he must, and death thou hast thy right,
The liuely truncke of Calthrop worthy Knight.
Whom teares ne plaints, nor shriking wofull cries.
Can call againe vnto his former life.
His childrens mones, nor seruants sorrowing noyse,
Nor yet the plaints of his most louing wife,
Whose teares like floods from eyes hath beene as rife.
But all in vaine, entombde he must abide,
Untill Christ come his chosen to deuide.


Calthrop farewell, thou peere of Common weale,
Thou light to men to guide their wayes aright,
Thy vertuous worth I cannot halfe reueale,
Nor zealous life as thou deseruest resite,
Of thee my quill vnable is to write.
But whilst I liue graue Calthrop I will praise,
Whose iustice shind like Phæbus in her rayes.
Blessed art thou whom God hath pleasde to call,
Unto his throne to rest with him on hie,
Plast next his seate in glory eternall,
Where faithfull soules doth liue and neuer die,
That on the blood of Christ vnfained doth relie.
Amongst which sort, O Lord for Iesus sake,
Accept vs all, and to thy fauour take.
To famous London, sweet Christ encline thine eare,
Maintaine their honour, her Lord Mayor doo blesse,
To Aldermen haue thou a Fathers care,
Whose paines are great thy Gospell to encrease.
Most zealously thy name which dooth professe.
Aduancing daily thy religion,
Of zeale to thee, and truth to English Crowne.
Whose redines for Prince and Countries good,
Is daily seene when she in neede doth stand,
Their purse their men, all bent to venture blood,
Whether to sea, or seruice on the land,
Yea all alike be prest at her commaund.
God and S. George our London harts still sayth,
For Countries cause, and Queene Elizabeth.
Finis.
H. R.