That brilliant nobleman—whose principal crimes were his wealth, his open, manly, and generous nature, and his wise criticisms of the ruinous expenditure on the “field of the cloth of gold”—was treacherously invited to court by the king, and, suspecting no mischief, he obeyed the summons, and set out on his journey from Thornbury, not observing for some time that he was closely followed by three knights of the king’s body-guard, “and a secret power of servants-at-arms.” His suspicions were first awakened at Windsor, where he lodged for the night, “the same three knights lying close by,” and where he was treated with marked disrespect by the king’s gentleman harbinger. From Windsor, Buckingham rode on to Westminster, and then took his barge to row down to Greenwich, where the court then was, calling, however, on his way, at York House, to see Cardinal Wolsey, who was denied to him. “Well, yet will I drink of my lord cardinal’s wine as I pass,” said the duke: “and then a gentleman of my lord cardinal’s brought the duke with much reverence into the cellar, where the duke drank; but when he saw and perceived no cheer to him was made, he changed colour, and departed.” Passing forward down the Thames, as he neared the City, his barge was hailed and boarded by Sir Henry Marney, captain of the body-guard, who, in the king’s name, attached him as a traitor. He was at once carried on shore and taken through Thames Street to the Tower, “to the great astonishment and regret of the people, to whom he was justly endeared.” This was on the 16th of April, 1521. On the 13th of May he was put on his mock trial and was condemned. “I shall never sue the king for life,” said he; and he kept his word. On the 17th he was executed, without having once supplicated his brutal king to spare the life he was unjustly taking away. “He was as undaunted in sight of the block as he had been before his judges; and he died as brave men die—firmly and meekly, and without bravado.” His death was the grief of the people. “God have mercy on his soul, for he was a most wise and noble prince, and the mirrour of all courtesie”—that was written of him at the time. By this detestable piece of royal treachery Henry became possessed of the estates of the duke, and held them in his own hands for several years, enlarging Penshurst Park, and reaping benefit from his unhallowed acquisitions. By Edward VI., Penshurst, with its appurtenances, was “granted to Sir Ralph Fane, who, within two years, was executed as an accomplice of the Protector Somerset.” Soon after this, the young monarch gave Penshurst, with other adjoining estates, to Sir William Sidney, one of the heroes of Flodden Field, “who had been his tutor, chamberlain, and steward of his household from his birth to his coronation.” Thus Penshurst came into the family of the Sidneys, concerning whom we will proceed to give some particulars.