The frequency, in the middle ages, with which sovereigns and members of
royal families met with mysterious deaths afforded full scope for the
ingenious to exercise their talents in assuming the names and titles of
deceased princes. As the murderers, or those who profited by the
murder, often could not conveniently produce proofs of the absent
person's decease, the claimant was frequently enabled to make good use
of his rival's reticence; but, almost invariably, even if the fraud
were not discovered, the pretender was overthrown, and nearly always
paid for his temerity by an ignominious or, at all events, a violent
death. The subject of the present sketch is almost the only impostor,
proved to be one, who met with a luckier fate.
The manner in which Richard the Third disposed of his nephews, Edward
the Fifth and Richard, Duke of York, was so mysterious and secret, that
it is not strange that it gave rise to many curious complications, the
perplexities of which had to be suffered by his successor. Presuming
the two young princes to have been put to death, the next male heir to
the throne, upon the demise of Richard the Third, was Edward, Earl of
Warwick, the son of the late Duke of Clarence. At one time, indeed,
Richard had treated the boy as heir-apparent, but his jealousy becoming
aroused, he had him detained as a prisoner in the manor-house of
Sheriff Hutton, doubtless with a view of causing him to share
ultimately the sad fate of his cousins. One of the earliest acts of
Henry the Seventh, after the defeat and death of Richard at Bosworth
Field, was to secure the person of the Earl of Warwick; he had the
youthful captive brought up to London, from Yorkshire, and then the
poor boy, "born to perpetual calamity," as Hall remarks, "was
incontinent in the Tower of London put under safe and sure custody."
The place of this unfortunate prince's durance, Henry's known
character, and the apparently parallel case of his two cousins, quickly
gave rise to the rumour that Edward had died suddenly. This
intelligence corresponded with the projected schemes of a certain
Richard Simon, a priest residing at Oxford. This man for some time
past, if Bacon and other authorities are to be believed, had been
educating a baker's son, Lambert Simnel by name, to play a daring and
apparently hopeless part in his ambitious game, and the news of the
Earl of Warwick's death afforded him the desired opportunity of taking
the first step. The priest and his pupil, a lad of no small natural
dignity and tact, proceeded to Ireland, and in November, 1486, landed
at Dublin.
Simon introduced his pupil to the Earl of Kildare first, and finding
him only too willing to accept his story, openly proclaimed the boy to
be Edward, son of the Duke of Clarence, escaped from his imprisonment
in the Tower. The nobles and gentry in Ireland crowded to see the
pseudo prince, who is recorded to have been "not only beautiful and
graceful in person, but witty and ingenious. He told his touching
story with great consistency, and, when questioned, he could give
minute particulars relating to the royal family." The Earl of Kildare,
who was Lord Lieutenant, or Deputy of Ireland, presented Simon's
_protege_ to the people "as sole male heir left of the line of Richard,
Duke of York," and consequently the rightful ruler of that realm. A
large number of Irish hereupon acknowledged him as their monarch; the
citizens of Dublin declaring unanimously in his favour; "so that," says
Bacon, "with marvellous consent and applause, this counterfeit
Plantagenet was brought with great solemnity to the castle of Dublin,
and there saluted, served, and honoured as king; the boy becoming it
well, and doing nothing that did betray the baseness of his condition."
Messengers were sent into England and Flanders for assistance, in the
meanwhile that the boy was solemnly crowned and anointed in the
cathedral of Dublin, by the Bishop of Meath, as Edward the Sixth, under
which name he issued writs, convoked a parliament, and performed other
acts of legal authority, without there being a single sword drawn in
King Henry's favour.
When intelligence of this affair reached Henry's ears, he at once
summoned a council to meet at the Charterhouse, near Shene, and the
result of their deliberations was that Edward Plantagenet should be
taken out of the Tower, and publicly shown to the citizens, to prove
the levity and imposture of the proceedings in Ireland; secondly, that
a general pardon or amnesty should be granted "to all that would reveal
their offences, and submit themselves by a certain day," and this
pardon was to be so ample that not even high treason--"no, not against
the King's own person"--should be excepted. Lastly, it was resolved
the Queen Dowager, Henry's mother-in-law, should be arrested,
imprisoned, and _her goods confiscated_, under the absurd pretence that
she had broken her agreement with Henry in delivering her daughters out
of sanctuary into the late King Richard's hands. This last resolution
every one could readily perceive was adopted from a motive different to
the alleged one, and Bacon hints that Henry suspected his royal
relative of having prompted, to suit her own purposes, the priest and
his protege Lambert in their undertaking. Whatever the cause of her
imprisonment, the King, says the historian, sustained great obloquy for
it, "which, nevertheless, was somewhat sweetened to him by a great
confiscation."
The pardon was accordingly proclaimed; the Queen-mother imprisoned in
the nunnery of Bermondsey; and the unfortunate veritable Prince Edward
was brought forth from his imprisonment in the Tower, and on a Sunday
taken through the principal streets to St. Paul's Cathedral, where a
large number of persons had congregated; "and it was provided also in
good fashion, that divers of the nobility and others of quality
(especially of those that the King most suspected and knew the person
of Plantagenet best), had communication with the young gentleman by the
way." The poor lad was then re-conducted to his place of durance,
after having, so far as England was concerned, served his jailer's
purpose. The Irish, however, had gone too far to be disconcerted by
this exhibition, and they loudly declared that it was Henry who had
"tricked up a boy in the likeness of Edward Plantagenet, and showed him
to the people," to suit his own plans.
At this time, also, unexpected succour arrived in Ireland for the
pretender. John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln, nephew of the two late
kings, Edward the Fourth and Richard the Third, and, after Edward
Plantagenet, the legitimate heir to the Yorkist claims, had fled from
the clutches of Henry the Seventh to the protection of his aunt,
Margaret of Burgundy. The Duchess, ever ready to assist the Yorkist
cause, had at once entered into the Simnel plot, and promised all the
aid in her power. She fitted out a regiment of two thousand
mercenaries, put them under the command of Martin Swartz, a skilled
veteran, and sent them with the Earl of Lincoln into Ireland. Thus
assisted, the Irish malcontents insisted upon being led into England,
and, despite the more prudent advice of some of their council, this
plan was adopted. Under the leadership of the Earls of Lincoln and
Kildare, the pretender and his adherents crossed over to Lanarkshire,
where they were joined by a small body of English under Sir Thomas
Broughton.
Henry, meanwhile, lost no time in raising troops, and by the time the
rebels had reached Stoke, near Newark, they came into contact with the
King's army. The battle was obstinately contested, but the pretender's
small and ill-armed forces had no chance against the royal troops.
"Martin Swartz, with his Germans, performed bravely, and so did those
few English that were on that side; neither did the Irish fail in
courage or fierceness, but being almost naked men, only armed with
darts and skeans, it was rather an execution than a fight upon them;
insomuch as the furious slaughter of them was a great discouragement
and appalment to the rest." The German veterans died in their ranks
almost to a man, and the rebels did not succumb until one-half of their
number, including nearly all their leaders, had fallen on the field;
while some hundreds of the royalists perished. Amongst the slain were
the Earls of Lincoln and Kildare, Sir Thomas Broughton, Colonel Swartz,
and, it is presumed, Lord Lovel; whilst amongst the prisoners were the
pseudo king, and his tutor, Richard Simon.
As soon as the pretender was proved to be only plain Lambert Simnel,
Henry took him into his service, and employed him in the royal kitchen
as a turnspit; ultimately promoting him to be one of the King's
falconers,--"Henry," says Bacon, "out of wisdom, thinking that if he
suffered death he would be forgotten too soon; but being kept alive he
would be a continual spectacle, and a kind of remedy against the like
enchantments of people in time to come." As for the priest, observes
this same authority, "he was committed close prisoner, and heard of no
more; _the King loving to seal up his own dangers_."