Interestingly, one contemporary Irish version of the events, as recorded in the Annals of Ulster, appears to confirm Molinet’s account in both respects:
A great fleet of Saxons came to Ireland this year [1487] to meet the son [sic = grandson] of the Duke of York, who was exiled at this time with the Earl of Kildare, namely, Gerald, son of Earl Thomas. And there lived not of the race of the blood royal that time but that son of the Duke and he was proclaimed King on the Sunday of the Holy Ghost [3 June – Feast of Pentecost], in the town of Ath Cliath [Dublin].1
Despite a slight error in the date,2 the wording of this report is highly significant. Not only do the Annals of Ulster confirm the view that the Dublin King was a genuine member of the royal house of York (and indeed the key surviving member of that family), but they also make it very clear that he was already living in Ireland before his supporters from England came to join him, having himself been ‘exiled’ in Ireland at some earlier date (not specified). Since the date of his ‘exile’, he had been residing in Ireland with the Earl of Kildare.
This version of the boy’s history clearly echoes Molinet’s statement that he had been brought up by Irish nobles (‘nourri entre les fertils et seigneurieux arbrisseaux d’Irlande’). Even more significantly, it also calls to mind one of the charges which had been brought against the Earl of Warwick’s father, George, Duke of Clarence, in 1477/78. That charge against Clarence will be examined in detail in just a moment.
First, however, we should also note that although both the Burgundian chronicler Jean de Molinet and the writer of the Irish Annals of Ulster believed that the Dublin King really was the Earl of Warwick, they are not the only surviving sources which offer this opinion. Another Burgundian chronicler, Adrien De But, also states unequivocally that the Dublin King was the son of George, Duke of Clarence. During the 1440s De But, later the prior of the Benedictine Abbey of the Dunes, had spent part of his youth at school in Mechelen, where he had relatives. Mechelen was later the home and power-base of Margaret of York, dowager Duchess of Burgundy. As we shall see, another contemporary source shows that it was in Mechelen that Margaret received the Duke of Clarence’s son in 1486. Through his family connections with the town, De But had every chance of accessing the views of the court of Margaret of York more or less straight from the horse’s mouth. De But makes one very small error in his account, in that he calls the boy the Duke of Warwick. This error in the title probably stems from a slight confusion between Warwick’s rank and that of his late father. Nevertheless, De But was clearly knowledgeable in some respects. For example, he was well aware that the young boy’s right to the Warwick title had been inherited from his mother, Isabel Neville, and not from his father. Adrien De But’s clear statements on the identity of the Dublin King are quoted verbatim in Chapter 6.
While Adrien De But confirms the statements of Molinet and of the Annals of Ulster in respect of the Dublin King’s identity, unfortunately he has nothing to tell us about where young Warwick had been brought up. However, as we have seen, both the other sources thought that Warwick had not spent his childhood in England, as the authorised account of his life would have us believe, but had instead been brought up in Ireland. As has already been noted, this story, from two separate and more or less contemporary sources, calls to mind very strongly the fact that in 1478 Edward IV had accused Warwick’s father, George, Duke of Clarence, of attempting to smuggle the little boy out of the country.
The Act of Attainder against the Duke of Clarence expressed the charge in the following words:
And also, the same Duke purposyng to accomplisse his said false and untrue entent, and to inquiete and trouble the Kynge, oure said Sovereigne Lorde, his Leige People and this his Royaulme, nowe of late willed and desired the Abbot of Tweybury, Mayster John Tapton, Clerk, and Roger Harewell Esquier, to cause a straunge childe to have be brought into his Castell of Warwyk, and there to have be putte and kept in likelinesse of his Sonne and Heire, and that they shulde have conveyed and sent his said Sonne and Heire into Ireland, or into Flaundres, oute of this Lande, whereby he myght have goten hym assistaunce and favoure agaynst oure said Sovereigne Lorde; and for the execucion of the same, sent oon John Taylour, his Servaunte, to have had delyveraunce of his said Sonne and Heire, for to have conveyed hym; the whiche Mayster John Tapton and Roger Harewell denyed the delyveraunce of the said Childe, and soo by Goddes grace his said false and untrue entent was lette and undoon.3
As reported here, the first part of Clarence’s plot required John Strensham (or Streynsham), Abbot of Tewkesbury,4 John Tapton and Roger Harewell to bring a child to Warwick Castle, with the intention that this substitute boy should then impersonate Clarence’s little son, the Earl of Warwick. The second part of the plan was to send the real Earl of Warwick either to Ireland or to the Low Countries, either for his own safety, or in order to provide a focus for future rebellion against Edward IV (depending on how one interprets the planned getting of ‘assistaunce and favoure agaynst oure said Sovereigne Lorde’). The Abbot of Tewkesbury was apparently a friend of the Clarence family, and as we have already seen, he was one of the godfathers of the Earl of Warwick (the other being the boy’s uncle, King Edward IV, after whom he had been named).5
As reported in the Act of Attainder, the plot to send the Earl of Warwick abroad was planned in precise detail, involving named individuals, some of whom had obviously been interrogated as part of the proceedings against the Duke of Clarence. Moreover, at least part of the planned operation actually took place, because Clarence’s servant John Taylour was dispatched to collect the real Earl of Warwick, in order to transport the child out of England. Meanwhile, together with the Abbot of Tewkesbury, Tapton and Harewell were supposed to produce a substitute child who would take the young earl’s place. When they were interrogated, however, Tapton and Harewell denied that they had actually handed over their substitute child. Within the context of the legal case conducted against the Duke of Clarence, the implication appears to be that the attempt to smuggle the real Earl of Warwick abroad with the help of the named servants and affinity members had not succeeded. And this is certainly how most historians appear to have construed the text.
However, a careful reading of the precise words of the Act reveals nothing to show that the genuine Earl of Warwick was not taken out of England by John Taylour. Unlike Tapton and Harewell, Taylour is not reported to have denied carrying out his instructions. Indeed, if he was out of the country, he would have been unavailable for questioning. The Act of Attainder certainly states quite specifically that John Taylour was sent somewhere (possibly to Warwick Castle) by the Duke of Clarence, to take charge of the young earl, whom he was then to convey abroad, either to Ireland or to Flanders.
The only other information contained within the Act can be interpreted in two possible ways, depending on how one understands the key word ‘denyed’. One possibility is that the proposed substitute child who was to have been produced by Tapton and Harewell was withheld. In that case, the original planned substitution would not have materialised. However, that does not prove that no substitution ever took place. It leaves open the possibility that some other substitute child, from a different source, had subsequently been installed at Warwick Castle to assume the role of the little Earl of Warwick, who had been handed over to John Taylour.
The second possible interpretation is that, when interrogated, Tapton and Harewell (wishing, presumably, to excape charges against themselves) denied that they had carried out their instructions. That would tell us absolutely nothing about what actually occurred. It would merely show that, when questioned, Tapton and Harewell were afraid, and wished to distance themselves as far as possible from any involvement. In that case, it remains entirely conceivable that, despite what they said under interrogation, in reality Tapton and Harewell carried out the instructions they received from the Duke of Clarence.
Interestingly, George, Duke of Clarence, who was born at Dublin Castle, had been appointed Lord Lieuten
ant of Ireland in 1462, and held that post until his death.6 In 1477, following the demise of his wife, Clarence accused one of her servants, Ankarette Twynyho, of having poisoned her. Strangely, however, he did not act upon this belief immediately after Isabel Neville’s death. It was not until about three months later that he took action against Ankarette. An eighteenth-century writer mentions that Clarence visited Ireland in 1477.7 The source is, of course, far from contemporary, but if the account is correct, the only time during 1476/77 (in terms of the medieval calendar) when the duke could have made such a visit was in the three months following Isabel’s death. Subsequently his whereabouts are on record, and there is no indication that Clarence then left England. Therefore, it is possible that Clarence visited Ireland in January–March 1476/77. In that case his trip across the Irish Sea may have been the reason for the delay in his prosecution of Ankarette Twynyho.
But what important consideration could have made him delay proceedings against his wife’s believed killer, in favour of a visit to Ireland? Could it be that Clarence himself accompanied John Taylour and the little Earl of Warwick to Dublin – or made a personal advance visit to speak to his deputy, the Earl of Kildare, in order to request the latter to receive the Earl of Warwick from the hands of John Taylour, assume guardianship of the little boy, and take care of him, bringing him up in Ireland? Under such highly unusual circumstances, a personal visit from the Duke of Clarence may well have seemed a wise precaution. After all, if the proposed scenario is correct, what Kildare was being asked to do in respect of an infant prince of the blood royal would have been something unprecedented. Thus, even a sealed letter from the Duke of Clarence might not have seemed sufficient to assure Kildare that he really was being asked to receive his lord’s young son as his ward.
There is no question of the fact that the Dublin King later enjoyed the unqualified support of Gerald Mór Fitzgerald, eighth Earl of Kildare, who on 25 March 1477 (the first day of the New Year, according to the medieval English calendar) had succeeded his father, the seventh earl, as the Duke of Clarence’s Deputy Lieutenant of Ireland. It is therefore not implausible to suggest that Gerald (on behalf of his dying father) had personally received George in Ireland in February–March 1476/77 – at the very time when the duke was reported to have been plotting to send his son abroad secretly. It is also possible that the Earl of Kildare subsequently acted as guardian to the young Earl of Warwick, bringing him up, as Molinet later wrote, ‘entre les fertils et seigneurieux arbrisseaux d’Irlande’ (‘amongst the fruitful and lordly shrubs of Ireland’). Naturally, if the Earl of Kildare really did receive the little Earl of Warwick in 1476/77, at the request of the boy’s father, no one would have been in a better position than the Fitzgerald family to know for certain that the Dublin King really was the son of the Duke of Clarence.
Incidentally, at this point it may be worth saying something about whether or not the Duke of Clarence is at all likely to have sent his son away in secret. At first glance, such a suggestion may appear highly improbable. However, given that George believed his family to be in danger – probably at the hands of Elizabeth Woodville – he may well have taken steps to protect his son and heir. Indeed, the Act of Attainder passed against him proves beyond any question that the government of the day believed that George had at least attempted to send his son away in secret.
Nor would such action have been unique for a noble family with royal connections at that period. When John, the ninth Lord Clifford (the killer of Edmund, Earl of Rutland – brother of Edward IV and Richard III), was killed by a Yorkist arrow on the day before the Battle of Towton, his 7-year-old son and heir, Henry, was spirited away, on his mother’s instructions, from his family home at Skipton Castle. Initially he was concealed as a shepherd-boy, living with the peasant family of his former nurse. Henry Clifford remained in hiding for twenty-four years, until Richard III was killed at the Battle of Bosworth, and the Act of Attainder against his late father was repealed.
As we have seen, following George’s execution his (alleged) son in England was consigned to the guardianship of Elizabeth Woodville’s son, the Marquess of Dorset. However, we have also seen that Dorset probably didn’t know the real Earl of Warwick from Adam. Even Dorset’s stepfather, the king, would probably have been incapable of recognising his real nephew. If presented with a child of about the right age, brought to him by former servants of his late brother, Edward IV would doubtless have accepted the little boy as the Earl of Warwick without question.
In the light of this suggestion, it is intriguing – and potentially very important – to note that the Dublin King was later stated in Parliament, by Henry VII’s official spokesmen, to have been aged about 10 in 1487. Since they had no access to any record of the boy’s date of birth, this estimated age can only have been based upon the child’s height and appearance. Significantly, however, the real Earl of Warwick, born in 1475, would not have been 10 years old in 1487. He would have been 12.
In this context it is also important to note that evidence was recently published (by this author), indicating that Warwick’s father, the Duke of Clarence, was probably of below-average height.8 Burgundian observers who encountered the young George and his brother, the future Richard III, in 1461, when they were in exile in the Low Countries, made an error in estimating George’s age. In reality, at the date in question George was approximately 11½ years old, while Richard was about 8½. However, the chronicler Jehan de Wavrin,9 having seen the two young Yorkist princes, guessed their ages as 9 and 8 respectively.10 This suggests that when he was 8 years old Richard (III) was of about the normal average height for a boy of his age. At the same time, however, George, at the chronological age of 11½ , looked about two years younger. Based on the average heights recorded for modern boys aged 10 and 12, the height difference implied by this evidence would have been of the order of about 12.7cm (3in).11
This information about the height of the Duke of Clarence is very important in the present context. We are dealing here with evidence which indicates that in 1487 the Dublin King – who was reputed to be George’s son – also appeared to be about two years younger than his true chronological age. When these two pieces of information are considered side by side, they can be interpreted as indicating that the Earl of Warwick simply took after his father. The evidence implies that when they were approaching the age of 12, both the Earl of Warwick and the Duke of Clarence were about 5 per cent below the average height for typical boys of their age.12 Presumably Warwick had simply inherited the genes which determined his stature from his father, with the result that both of them were of below-average height. In that case, those who claimed that the Dublin King was the true Earl of Warwick could well have been telling the truth.
So was the pretender of 1487 the genuine Earl of Warwick? If his father had succeeded in secretly sending the boy abroad in 1477, then the Dublin King might well have been the prince he claimed to be. As we have seen, the 1487 pretender certainly enjoyed the support of Gerald, Earl of Kildare, who had formerly been the Duke of Clarence’s Deputy Lieutenant of Ireland. Had Gerald received George in Ireland in February–March 1476/77, at the very time when the Duke is said to have been plotting to send his son secretly to Ireland? Did he therefore know for certain that the pretender was a genuine Yorkist prince?
Sadly, for about 500 years such questions have largely been ignored by the standard English historical accounts of the story of ‘Lambert Simnel’. Such accounts have simply reiterated endlessly, as unquestionable facts, the official statements of the government of Henry VII – a body which had the strongest possible political motive for doing everything in its power to ensure that the Dublin King was written off as an insignificant fraud. The only way to move forward from that position is to seek fresh evidence.
The alternative account of the childhood of the Earl of Warwick offered in this chapter has sought to do precisely that. What has emerged is that contemporary Burgundian and Irish sources believed the Dublin King
truly was the Earl of Warwick. They also thought he might have been brought up in Ireland. The Act of Attainder against the Duke of Clarence, when read with care, indicates that the real Earl of Warwick had possibly been removed from his nursery at Warwick Castle in 1476/77, on his father’s instructions, at the age of about 2. And while no fifteenth-century source tells us explicitly that the Dublin King looked like the Duke of Clarence, the evidence contained in some of the sources strongly suggests that they might have resembled one another in respect of their height. Is this fresh evidence sufficient to prove that the Dublin King really was the Earl of Warwick?
Notes
Abbreviations
CPR
Calendar of Patent Rolls
ODNB
Oxford Dictionary of National Biography
PROME
Parliament Rolls of Medieval England
1. Annals of Ulster, vol. 3, (1379–1541) Dublin 1895, p. 315. Also cited in part in Hayden, ‘Lambert Simnel’, p. 631.
2. The Dublin King was crowned on the Feast of the Ascension (24 May), not the Feast of Pentecost (3 June).
3. For the full text of the Act of Attainder, see Ashdown-Hill, Third Plantagenet, pp. 150–6.
4. He was abbot until 1481, but it is not known precisely in which year he succeeded John de Abingdon (abbot 1442–?).
5. ‘Abbot Strensham was godfather to Clarence’s son, Edward’, M. Hicks, Chapter 2, p. 29 in R.K. Morris and R. Shoesmith, eds, Tewkesbury Abbey: History, Art and Architecture, Hereford 2003, 2012.
6. He was reappointed for a further twenty years in 1472. C. Ross, Edward IV, London 1974, 1991, p. 187, n. 3. For fuller details of the life history of the Duke of Clarence see Ashdown-Hill, Third Plantagenet.
7. Joseph Strutt, 1773, quoted in A. Sutton and L. Visser-Fuchs, ‘Richard III and the Knave of Cards: An illuminator’s model in manuscript and print, 1440s to 1990s’, Antiquaries Journal, 79 (1999), p. 257.
The Dublin King: The True Story of Lambert Simnel and the Princes in the Tower Page 10