The Dublin King: The True Story of Lambert Simnel and the Princes in the Tower

by John Ashdown-Hill

  30. His second year of office ended on Monday, 3 October 1485 (being the Monday following Michaelmas Day).

  31. It could perhaps be argued that the town clerk meant to imply that Edward V (reference to whose name could not entirely be avoided, since documents existed dated to the first year of his reign) was legally – but not necessarily physically – dead. However, this is not the obvious interpretation of the words used.

  32. Hicks’s assertion that ‘by autumn [1483] they [Edward V and Richard of Shrewsbury] were generally assumed to be dead’ (M. Hicks, Richard III, Stroud, 2000, p. 242) must be rejected in the light of the subsequent response to Perkin Warbeck.

  33. See, for example, D. Baldwin, The Lost Prince: The Survival of Richard of York, Stroud 2007.

  34. Postscript from Richard III’s letter to his chancellor, 12 October 1483, quoted in P.M. Kendall, Richard the Third, London, 1956, p. 269.

  3

  Edward, Earl of Warwick – Authorised Version

  No fifteenth-century writer ever attempted to identify the Dublin King with Edward V, the elder son of Edward IV. With the exception of Bernard André, none of them seriously attempted to identify him with Edward IV’s younger son, Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York – or with an impostor claiming to be Richard. It is true that Polydore Vergil (perhaps influenced by André’s account) does suggest that the boy’s puppet masters considered at one point the possibility of a Richard of Shrewsbury imposture. But Vergil then goes on to say that they rapidly abandoned the idea.

  Before considering Vergil’s account in detail, let us first turn back to the Burgundian chronicler Jean de Molinet, who wrote in, or just before, 1504. In respect of the sons of Edward IV, Molinet proved to be not very accurately informed – and perhaps not very deeply interested. However, in the case of the Dublin King, one of whose key supporters was Margaret of York, Duchess of Burgundy, the Burgundian background of Molinet makes him a potentially very interesting source. It is fascinating, therefore, to discover that Molinet reported that:

  one little branch, engendered by a Royal tree, had been nurtured amongst the fruitful and lordly shrubs of Ireland … this very noble branch is Edward, son of the Duke of Clarence, who, based upon the advice and moral deliberation of the nobles of Ireland, and with the support of a number of barons of England, his wellwishers, decided after due debate to have himself crowned king, and to expel from his royal throne the Earl of Richmond, who was then in possession of the crown of England.1

  Two interesting points emerge immediately from Molinet’s statement. The first is that the boy who was crowned as the Dublin King was ‘Edward, son of the Duke of Clarence’, in other words the genuine Earl of Warwick. As we shall see in due course, Molinet is not the only contemporary Burgundian chronicler who reported that the Dublin King was the real Earl of Warwick. The second point made by Molinet is that this Yorkist princeling had been ‘nurtured amongst the … lordly shrubs of Ireland’. This gives the impression that the boy had been in Ireland for several years at least. We shall review the implication underlying that notion in detail, and also review other Burgundian and Irish sources which back up Molinet’s version of events, in the next chapter.

  About ten years after Molinet penned his version of events, Henry VII’s leading historian, Polydore Vergil, wrote his account, which runs as follows:

  [There was] a popular rumor that Edward’s sons survived and had secretly fled somewhere, and that Edward Earl of Warwick, the son of the Duke of Clarence, had either been murdered, or soon would be. These rumors, although quite false, encouraged Richard Simons [sic], so that he fancied the time would come when Lambert could plausibly assume the guise of one of those royal boys and claim the kingdom, being assured that he would not lack helping hands, since most of the hatreds arising from factions are everlasting (for he measured others according to his own standard). And so, led by this hope, he took his Lambert to Oxford, where he studied letters and with wonderful zeal began to acquire royal manners, the goodly arts, and to memorize the royal pedigree, so that, when the need should arise, the common people might admire the boy’s character and more readily believe this lie. Not much later a rumor went abroad that Earl Edward of Warwick had died in prison. When Simons learned this, thinking the time had come for his intended crime, he changed the lad’s name and called him Edward, the name of the Duke of Clarence’s son, who was of the same age, so that neither was older than the other, and immediately took him and crossed over to Ireland. There he secretly met with some of the Irish peerage whom he had learned by rumor to be disaffected towards Henry, and when they had taken an oath of secrecy he told them that he had saved from death the Duke of Clarence’s son and had brought him to that land, which he heard had always uniquely loved King Edward’s name and stock. This matter gained their ready credence and was then revealed to others, and was taken as Gospel truth to the point that Thomas Fitzgerald, the island’s Chancellor, was especially deceived by this show of truth and offered the boy his hospitality, as if he were born of the royal blood, and began to help him with all his might.2

  Four significant questions arise from Vergil’s account. These questions will be highlighted now, and then re-examined in subsequent chapters. The first question concerns Vergil’s statement that the priest, whose name he gives as Richard Simons, took Lambert Simnel to Oxford. The implication is that Simnel (and therefore presumably his family) were not inhabitants of that city.

  Second, Vergil states that there were rumours of the death of the Earl of Warwick. From its context in his account the implication would appear to be that these rumours were in the air in about 1486. However, no other evidence survives to support this allegation.

  Vergil’s third questionable point is his statement that Lambert Simnel and the Earl of Warwick were of the same age. This definitely appears to be an error, for the contemporary official statement in the Rolls of Parliament gives Lambert Simnel’s age in 1487 as 10 years,3 whereas the Earl of Warwick would have been 12 years old at that time. In fact, Vergil seems sometimes to have been in a muddle about the ages of both boys, since he specifically (but incorrectly) suggests at one point that in August 1485 Warwick was aged 15.

  Since there were no such things as birth certificates in the fifteenth century, no one can possibly have seen written evidence of Lambert Simnel’s age. Thus, the figure of 10 years given in Henry VII’s parliamentary records was presumably an estimate, based on the boy’s height and appearance. That makes the age estimate, and the two-year difference between it and the real chronological age of the Earl of Warwick, potentially rather interesting. This is a point which will be explored in greater detail in the next chapter.

  Finally, Vergil states explicitly that Lambert Simnel was only taken to Ireland (by Richard Simons) after rumours began to circulate of the death of the Earl of Warwick in prison – i.e. presumably in 1486. This conflicts with Molinet’s evidence (see above), which clearly implies that the Dublin King had spent at least part of his childhood in Ireland, where he had been brought up in noble houses. Of course, there is also another obvious difference between the accounts of Molinet and Vergil. Whereas Molinet states explicitly that the Dublin King was Edward of Clarence, Earl of Warwick, Vergil says that he was not Warwick, but merely impersonated him.

  From what has already begun to emerge about the childhood of the Earl of Warwick, it must already be apparent that, whereas initially it appeared that his might be one of the possible alternative stories of the childhood of the Dublin King requiring consideration, in fact the true picture is rather more complex. For the childhood of Warwick seems to have at least two possible versions. First, there is what might be termed the authorised version of Edward’s life – the version officially endorsed by three successive kings: Edward IV, Richard III and Henry VII. According to this version of Edward’s story he was brought up in England, passing, after the death of his father, through the hands of various high-born English guardians.

  However, after recounting that
officially recognised story – and before we can begin to review the account of the Dublin King’s possible childhood identity as Lambert Simnel – we must also consider an alternative version of the life of Edward, Earl of Warwick. According to this second version, Warwick may have left the land of his birth at a very young age, and been brought up across the sea, in Ireland. Before considering that alternative account, however, let us first resume and conclude the authorised version of Warwick’s life.

  Warwick’s father, George, Duke of Clarence, born in 1449, had been the middle of those three sons of Richard and Cecily, Duke and Duchess of York, who survived the vicissitudes both of a medieval childhood and the Wars of the Roses to attain adult status. His elder (and indeed, much older) brother was Edward, Earl of March – later Edward IV. His younger brother, who was quite close to George in age, and with whom he spent much of his childhood, was Richard, Duke of Gloucester (Richard III). Of these three brothers, George was, in worldly terms, the least successful. He never attained the throne of England – or indeed any throne – despite the fact that his ambitions included the possibility of attaining an independant realm of his own in the Low Countries.

  Politically, George was very close to his much older cousin, Richard Neville, the Kingmaker, Earl of Warwick. As a result – and despite the initial opposition of his brother, Edward IV – George eventually married the Kingmaker’s elder daughter and co-heiress, Isabel Neville. By Isabel, George had four children, two sons and two daughters. However, his first daughter died within hours of her birth, and his youngest son also died very young. In his father’s eyes, that final little baby boy – together with his mother, the Duchess of Clarence – were probably poisoned at the instigation of his enemy, Elizabeth Woodville, the bigamous second wife of his brother the king, and the mother of the two boys who had displaced George from the prospect of succession to the English throne.

  George, Duke of Clarence and his wife, Isabel Neville, Duchess of Clarence – the second possible parents of the Dublin King.

  One ironic outcome of the marriage of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence is the fact that this fifteenth-century couple has a large number of living descendants in the world today. Their second daughter, Margaret, Countess of Salisbury, born at Farleigh Hungerford Castle in Somerset, lived long, and, by her marriage to Sir Richard Pole, produced a number of children. Had Henry VIII not decided to have her head cut off on 27 May 1541, Margaret’s life would have been even longer. Every known living descendant of George and Isabel is also a descendant of their daughter Margaret.

  However, it is the third child – and first son – of George and Isabel, born at Warwick Castle on 25 February 1474/75, who is the focus of our attention in the present context. This little boy’s two godfathers were his uncle, Edward IV, and John Strensham, Abbot of Tewkesbury. It was in honour of the senior godfather, the king, that the little boy was baptised Edward. The king then went on to create him Earl of Warwick.4 Edward is one of the boys at the centre of this book, for in the opinion of many of those who attended the coronation of the Dublin King in 1487, that king was none other than Edward of Clarence, Earl of Warwick. Indeed, even the majority of those who do not accept that identity nevertheless believe that the Dublin King at least claimed to be Warwick – even if he was, in reality, a poor boy from Oxford.

  Christine Carpenter’s bizarre statement about his title notwithstanding,5 in fact, despite the attainder and execution of his father, the young Edward always retained the rank of Earl of Warwick. This was because it had not come to him via a paternal line inheritance. Rather, it had been specifically granted to him by the king in right of his maternal descent. On his mother’s side the little boy was the Kingmaker’s grandson. As we shall see presently, the surviving household accounts of Edward IV prove incontrovertibly that the little boy always continued to hold the Warwick title, and that his tenure was completely unaffected by his father’s attainder and execution.

  The precise movements of the Duke of Clarence following his wife’s death are a matter which we shall need to review in greater detail in the next chapter. For the moment, however, it is sufficient to note that when the duke was arrested, in the summer of 1477, his son, the Earl of Warwick, would have been only 2½ years old. Presumably the little boy was then residing at Warwick Castle, which had been his parents’ main home since 1471. Like all children of his rank he must have had a staff of nurses and other servants to care for him. He had probably seen little of his mother, who had died when he was less than 2 years old. It is also somewhat doubtful how well he will have known his father, given his very young age at the time of the duke’s arrest. When Clarence was executed, on 18 February 1477/78, Warwick was a week away from his third birthday. His awareness of what had happened must therefore have been very slight.

  Because his father’s execution had left him an orphan, in 1478 the boy required a guardian, and in 1481 his wardship was assigned by the king to the latter’s own stepson, Thomas Grey, Marquess of Dorset, son of Elizabeth Woodville by her first marriage. Although Edward IV had stood as godfather to the little boy, it is not certain that he had actually attended the baptism in person. It is therefore also not certain whether he had ever set eyes on his nephew. Even if he had seen him at the baptism, however, that would have been when the boy was less than a month old. Edward IV’s personal ability to recognise that same nephew three years later must therefore be open to question.

  Since the Marquess of Dorset held the governership of the Tower of London, it seems likely that, having been assigned to his guardianship, the little boy was brought to London, where he then probably spent the greater part of the years from 1478 until 1483 at the Tower – ironically the very building in which his father had been executed. Whether the Marquess of Dorset had ever seen the Earl of Warwick before the little boy was given into his charge is completely unknown.

  Having accepted the child who had been delivered to them by the servants of the dead Duke of Clarence, Edward IV and his family in London naturally treated the little boy as a relative; as a member of the royal family, and as a person of potential future importance. The king’s surviving household accounts include the following entries:

  To th’Erle off Warrewyk to have for his were and use, iiij peire of shoon double soled and a peire of shoon of Spaynyssh leder single soled, by virtue of a warrant under the Kinges signe mannuelle and signet bering date the second day of Juyn in the xxti yere of the moost noble reigne of our said Souverain Lorde the King [2 June 1480].6

  To th’Erle of Warrewyk to have of the yifte of oure said Souverain Lorde the Kyng for his use and were, a peire of shoon single soled of blue leder; a paire of shoon of Spaynyssh leder; a paire of botews of tawny Spaynyssh leder; and ij paire shoon single soled … and unto the Maister off the Kinges Barge ayenst the commyng of the righte high and right noble Princesse Lady Margarete the Duchesse of Bourgoingne suster unto our saide Souverain Lorde the Kyng, a gowne of blak chamelet, by virtue of a warrant under thye Kynges signet and signe manuelle bering date the xxiiijti day of Juylle in the xxti yere of the moost noble reigne of oure said Souverain Lord the Kyng [24 July 1480].7

  These accounts show that, following the execution of Clarence, Edward IV continued to take some interest in his nephew, the Earl of Warwick. They also demonstrate incontrovertibly that the young boy definitely did hold the title of ‘Earl of Warwick’, despite the curious comments on this point in his ODNB entry. In addition, the interesting fact emerges that the little boy may well have seen and been seen by his aunt, Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy during her visit to England in 1480. At the time of Margaret’s visit the Earl of Warwick was 5 years old.

  In 1483, following the death of his uncle and godfather, King Edward IV, and in the aftermath of the attempted Woodville plot to take over the government of England – and its eventual failure – the little boy’s guardian, the Marquess of Dorset, fled the country to join Henry Tudor. As a result, the young Earl of Warwick was once again briefly left without a gu
ardian. However, his younger paternal uncle, the new king, Richard III, took charge of him. Warwick attended Uncle Richard’s coronation in July 1483, and was knighted on the occasion of the investiture of his cousin, Edward of Middleham, as Prince of Wales, in September of that same year. After his coronation, Richard III established Warwick, together with the daughters of Edward IV, and possibly some other young Yorkist scions, at the Sheriff Hutton Castle in Yorkshire.

  This castle was situated 10 miles from the city of York. It had originally been built in the reign of King Stephen, and was christened Sheriff Hutton because its builder was the sheriff of Yorkshire. However, it was subsequently inherited by the Neville family, and Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmorland, the brother-in-law and supporter of Henry IV, ‘rebuilt, enlarged, and strongly fortified the castle’.8 Sheriff Hutton remained in the hands of the Nevilles until Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick was killed fighting on the wrong side at the Battle of Barnet. All the Kingmaker’s possessions were then seized by Edward IV, who granted the castle and manor of Sheriff Hutton to the late owner’s younger son-in-law, his own brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester.

  In 1483, following the death of Edward IV, Richard used Sheriff Hutton Castle initially to imprison Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers. But this was for a short time only, for Rivers was then sent on to Pontefract, where he was beheaded. According to the mid nineteenth-century account of William Grainge:

  After Richard had cleared his way to the throne by the murder of his brother’s children, he imprisoned in this castle, Edward Plantagenet, son of his brother, the duke of Clarence, earl of Warwick, and Elizabeth, eldest daughter of his late brother, king Edward.9

  This sentence is full of the most amazing Ricardian mythology, for, of course, Richard attained the throne by judgement that Edward’s children were bastards, and not by murder. Likewise there is no reason whatever for describing Warwick’s residence at Sheriff Hutton as an imprisonment.