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

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The Dublin King: The True Story of Lambert Simnel and the Princes in the Tower Page 23

by John Ashdown-Hill


  If Henry VII did have doubts as to whether his captive was, in fact, identical with the boy who had been crowned in Dublin, if he was seeking independent confirmation of his prisoner’s identity, that would certainly explain his gratitude and generosity to Lord Howth following the latter’s apparent recognition of the former pretender. Ironically, however, Howth was one of the very few Anglo-Irish lords who had not supported the Dublin King. Therefore he may never have seen the boy while he was the titular head of state in Dublin. Thus, in reality, Howth’s apparent acknowledgement of the identity of the person who served him the wine was probably meaningless.

  It is also interesting to note that, according to the version of the story which has survived (possibly a somewhat biased account), Lord Howth appears to have been the only Anglo-Irish peer who accorded recognition to the servant on this occasion. Since he was also possibly the only Anglo-Irish lord present who had never seen the Dublin King while the boy was on his throne, it seems that the failure of his companions to recognise Lambert Simnel as their former boy-king was probably more significant than Howth’s pretence of recognition.

  Another issue which concerned Smith and other writers relates to the age of the young person who was taken into Henry VII’s service after the Battle of Stoke, firstly as a kitchen lad, and subsequently as a falconer. As we have already seen, in 1487 the Dublin King was thought to be 10 years of age by representatives of Henry VII’s government who saw the boy in Ireland during his ‘reign’. At that time the real Earl of Warwick would have been 12; Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York would have been 14, and Edward V would have been approaching 17. The age differences between them certainly appear, on the face of things, to be significant, though it has been noted that the Earl of Warwick might have shared with his father, the Duke of Clarence, a stature lower than average, so that at the age of 12 he might possibly have been mistaken for a boy of 10. On the other hand the Duke of York and Edward V had a father who was much taller than average. It therefore seems improbable that either of them would have been mistaken for a 10-year-old in 1487.

  In this context, however, it is very curious to discover that Francis Bacon describes Lambert Simnel as ‘of the age of some fifteen years, a comely youth and well favoured, not without some extraordinary dignity and grace of aspect’.6 In this particular sentence, Bacon is clearly referring to Simnel in 1485–86, because he goes on to explain that the boy’s promising appearance attracted the attention of the man who was to become his priestly mentor. It is therefore evident that the pretension had not yet started. Of course, Bacon was not a contemporary, but the ultimate source for this estimated age must presumably have been someone who had seen Lambert Simnel. However, Bacon’s immediate source for his stated age of 15 may have been Vergil, who had erroneously given 15 as the age of the Earl of Warwick in 1485.7

  Of course, no one at the Tudor court had set eyes on Lambert Simnel in 1485–86. Henry VII’s writers only saw Simnel after he was captured. They must therefore have estimated the pretender’s age in 1485–86 from the appearance of the youth detained by Henry VII from 1487 onwards. In other words Bacon’s information would appear to suggest that, after the Battle of Stoke, the person who was said be the captured Dublin King, and who was subsequently employed in the service of Henry VII, had the appearance of a lad of about 17 at or shortly after the time when he was captured.8

  In this connetion, it is noteworthy that at some point Vergil changed his text, deleting his initial use of the word ‘boy’ and substituting the word ‘lad’. This seems to imply that he too had found himself confronting, and having to deal with, conflicting information which spoke of a Dublin King aged 10 but a captured pretender aged 16 or 17.9 This apparent age discrepancy has been interpreted by some writers as suggesting that the Lambert Simnel who was Henry VII’s prisoner after the Battle of Stoke cannot have been identical with the much younger Dublin King. And as we have seen, it is possible that Henry VII also found himself wondering about this.

  To confuse the situation still further, some historians have chosen to accept the non-official evidence which suggests that the pretender was in his middle to late teens even at the time of his coronation. Consequently they have rejected the official statements which ascribe to him an age of 10 years. In other words, they assume that the Dublin King was six or seven years older than the official statements suggested. It has also been noted that the age ascribed to the teenaged pretender would then have been perfectly compatible with the age of Edward V, if he was still alive in 1487.

  But we have already noted that no contemporary fifteenth-century source suggests that the Dublin King was, or ever claimed to be, Edward V. Moreover, we have produced clear evidence that he used the royal style of ‘Edward VI’. Therefore the notion that the Dublin King was older than reported by the official Tudor sources is almost certainly worthless. It is far more likely that the Lambert Simnel who served Henry VII from 1487 – and who indeed may then have been in his late teens – was a different person than the younger boy who had been crowned in Dublin.

  Vergil’s statement that ‘Lambert is still alive’ has been taken by Michael Bennett and others to mean that Lambert lived until 1534 – the year in which Vergil’s text was first published.10 This interpretation may be correct, but actually the point is by no means certain. The problem is that althouth the first edition of Vergil’s history was published in 1534 – and Vergil had updated his text somewhat with that publication in mind – the original text had been completed in 1512–13. It is therefore possible that Vergil’s statement merely implies that Lambert Simnel was still alive in about 1513.

  Nevertheless, whatever the precise meaning of Vergil’s text, an independent source provides incontestable evidence that Lambert Simnel lived until at least the twenty-sixth year of the reign of Henry VIII (1524). From that year, records survive relating to the ‘expenses of the funeral of Sir Thomas Lovel, Knt. of the Garter, who died at his manor of Elsynges in Endfeld, Middlesex, 25 May Corpus Christi even at 7 pm 26 Hen. VIII 1524’.11 These records show that livery cloth was issued to ninety-seven yeomen. The list of the yeomen in question ends with the following words: ‘broche turners, scullions, housekeepers, labourers, carters, Lambert Symnell, the schoolmaster, and Jack the lad in the kitchen’.12 This implies that up until the early summer of 1524 Lambert Simnel had been employed by Sir Thomas Lovell in a relatively menial capacity, probably at his manor of Elsyng at Enfield, Middlesex. Lovell had acquired this manor in 1492, through his wife, Isabel de Ros. The manor house had probably been built by her uncle, John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester (executed 1470).

  We have no precise record, then, of when Lambert Simnel died. Nor do we know where he was buried. If he died at, or near, Elsyng House (which is by no means certain), the nearest church and graveyard would have been at St Andrew’s Church, Enfield, and Lambert Simnel may have been buried there. Until the monastery’s dissolution in 1538, St Andrew’s Church belonged to the Benedictine Abbey of Walden (at Saffron Walden in Essex). One possible means of clarifying Lambert Simnel’s true identity – if only his bones could be recovered – would be by means of DNA. Unfortunately, however, there is currently little prospect of undertaking such scientific research: the earliest surviving memorial stone in St Andrew’s graveyard dates only from 1680.13 There are earlier monuments within the church, but none of these commemorates Lambert Simnel.

  The possible burial place of Lambert Simnel. St Andrew’s Church, Enfield, in 1895.

  Bennett suggested that, ‘given the rarity of the surname in England, Richard Simnel, canon of St Osith’s in Essex at the time of the dissolution in 1539, may have been [Lambert’s] son’.14 Canon Richard Simnel certainly existed. That is proved by surviving documentation relating to the dissolution of St Osyth’s Priory in Essex, which lists among the canons of that religious house on 8 August 31 Henry VIII, ‘Ric. Symnell, canon’.15

  As we have seen, however, Bennett’s assumptions concerning the origins of the Simnel surname,
and the frequency of its occurrence, are not based on any real evidence. Still, Canon Richard Simnel may perhaps have been a relative of Lambert. The possibility has already been noted that Lambert may have had at least one relative called Richard who served as a priest in the Church (see above). However, this falls far short of proving that Canon Richard Simnel of St Osyth’s was a relation, and there is certainly no proof that the canon was Lambert’s son. Further fascinating evidence of when and where the surname SIMNEL(L) is recorded, both in the UK, and in some of the former British colonies, is offered in Appendix 3 (see here).

  Notes

  Abbreviations

  CPR

  Calendar of Patent Rolls

  ODNB

  Oxford Dictionary of National Biography

  PROME

  Parliament Rolls of Medieval England

  1. Sutton, Anglica Historia, http://www.vision.net.au/~pwood/june04.htm, accessed December 2013.

  2. Calendar of the Carew Manuscripts preserved in the Archiepiscopal Library at Lambeth: The Book of Howth, London 1871, p. 189.

  3. A.J. Otway-Ruthven, A History of Medieval Ireland, New York 1980, p. 406.

  4. For details of the Barons of Howth, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earl_of_Howth, accessed November 2013.

  5. Smith, ‘Lambert Simnel and the King from Dublin’, p. 516.

  6. R. Lockyer, ed., F. Bacon, The History of the Reign of King Henry the Seventh, London 1971, p. 54.

  7. ‘Before leaving Leicester, [Henry VII] sent Robert Willing into Yorkshire to fetch Edward Earl of Warwick, the fifteen year-old son of George Duke of Clarence, whom Richard had been holding in the castle of Sheriff Hutton.’ Sutton, Anglica Historia, http://www.vision.net.au/~pwood/june04.htm, accessed December 2013.

  8. On this point, see also Smith, ‘Lambert Simnel and the King from Dublin’, p. 503.

  9. In Vergil’s Latin text the change in vocabulary was from the word puer in the published text of 1534, to the word adolescens in the published text of 1546. Smith, ‘Lambert Simnel and the King from Dublin’, p. 513, n. 103.

  10. ‘Lambert Simnel’, ODNB.

  11. J.S. Brewer, ed., Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, vol. 4, part 1 (1524–1526), London 1870, pp. 149–150.

  12. Brewer, Letters and Papers, pp. 149–50.

  13. http://www.gravestonephotos.com/public/cemetery.php?cemetery=835, accessed December 2013.

  14. Simnel is not a common surname, but it does exist and seems to be geographically quite widely distributed – see above for origins – see also https://familysearch.org/search/record/results#count=20&query=%2Bsurname%3ASimnel~%20%2Brecord_country%3AEngland, accessed August 2013. Also, ‘Simnel cakes have been known since at least the medieval times. They would be eaten on the middle Sunday of Lent, Laetare Sunday (also known as Refreshment Sunday, Mothering Sunday, Sunday of the Five Loaves, and Simnel Sunday), when the forty day fast would be relaxed. More recently, they became a Mothering Sunday tradition, when young girls in service would make one to be taken home to their mothers on their day off. The word simnel probably derived from the Latin word simila, meaning fine, wheaten flour.’ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simnel_cake, accessed August 2013.

  15. J. Gairdner and R.H. Brodie, eds, Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, vol. 15 (1540), London 1896, item 147.

  15

  ‘Richard of England’

  The case of the second Yorkist pretender – the man who called himself Richard of England, who was recognised by many important people as Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York, the younger of Edward IV’s sons, and who is now known to history as Perkin Warbeck – has received a good deal more attention from historians than the case of the Dublin King. Several books have been written about him – and the most recent one, by Anne Wroe, was very extensive.1

  Perkin Warbeck is important to our story in two ways. First, in telling the story of the Dublin King, the second claimant’s case, and the results of his attempt on the English throne, cannot be ignored. The actions of Richard of England had an effect both on the foreign policy of Henry VII, and on the hopes of Margaret of York. Moreover, they eventually produced a very significant impact on at least one of the people associated with the case of the Dublin King, namely the official Earl of Warwick. It was the actions of Perkin Warbeck which ultimately provided the excuse for Warwick’s execution. Second, it is rather important – and also potentially instructive and informative – to compare the cases of the Dublin King and of Perkin.

  Strangely, in the past the case of the Dublin King has tended to be easily dismissed as insignificant. The boy at the centre of the plot has been almost universally dismissed as a fake. Perkin Warbeck, on the other hand, seems to have been taken seriously by foreign courts during the early stages of his campaign, and while some historians have dismissed him as a false claimant, others have at least speculated about the possibility that maybe his claim should be taken seriously.

  Yet in the case of Perkin Warbeck one is dealing with a situation which, in the final analysis, is either black or white. Either Richard of England really was Richard, Duke of York, the younger son of Edward IV, or he was not. On the other hand the case of the Dublin King is a much more complex picture, in shades of grey. One cannot, for example, simply say that the Dublin King either was, or was not, the Earl of Warwick.

  This is because there may have been more than one Earl of Warwick in existence in the 1470s and 1480s. Thus the Dublin King may have been the genuine biological son of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence, delivered by his father to Ireland when he was a very small child, and subsequently brought up there. On the other hand he may have been a child who somehow became involved at a very early age in the substitution plot of the Duke of Clarence. A boy who was not, perhaps, the biological son of the Duke of Clarence, but who may have been brought up for most of his young life believing that he was the Earl of Warwick. A third possibility is that the boy could have been a simple impostor, who was himself very well aware of the falseness of his claim.

  What is more, not one of these possible scenarios is necessarily inconsistent with the official Tudor account which tells us that at some stage he bore the name of Simnel (or one of its variants). Thus, in every respect, the story of the Dublin King (which has for so many years been treated as a very simple tale) is actually far more complex than the story of Perkin Warbeck.

  It was in 1493 that the city of York became aware that a second Yorkist claimant to the English throne was in prospect. On 13 May of that year the city archives recorded that:

  the Maier shewed that the publike noyse and rumour was that the Kyngs enimys and rebelles beyng byond the sea with the lady Margaret, duches of Burgon, and en especiall oon callyng hym self Richard, duke of York and secund son to the Kyng Edward the iiijth, late Kyng of this realme, with other his adherents, entendeth in right short tyme to entre this the Kyngs realme; wherfor my said lord the Maier on the Kyngs byhalve, and as they wald answer unto the Kyngs highnes at theyr jouperty and perill, charges all the said presence and every of theym that they in there wards shuld prepare and make redy all suche ordinauncez and abiliments of warre as they had in theyr wards, and as well gunnes, gonne stones, gonne powder as portculez and other; also that every wardeyn to se almaner of reseants within theyr wards have theyr harnas redy as jake, salet, bowez, arowez and other weappyns as they wold answer for.2

  Like the Dublin King, the new claimant was backed, morally and financially, by his putative aunt, Margaret of York. He was also well received by the crowned heads of Europe, beginning with Margaret’s relatives-in-law, the Habsburg family. Through the Habsburg connection he also came to the attention of Ferdinand and Isabel, the king and queen of Spain, who, for a complex mixture of reasons, also supported his claims. This Spanish support may later have led to rather serious consequences for the claimant, as we shall see.

  Eventually Richard of England found himself in Scotland, where he was married to a relative of the Scottish king. Of
course, if the claimant really was Richard of Shrewsbury – or as he now usually described himself, Richard of England – Lady Catherine Gordon was his second wife, the first having been little Anne Mowbray.

  With the aid of his new relative by marriage, King James IV of Scotland, Richard of England invaded the land he claimed as his own. Yet, as in the earlier case of the Dublin King, his contest for the crown of England was ultimately unsuccessful. Local support failed to materialise, and he penetrated only a few miles into the kingdom he was seeking to win. Later, from Ireland, he made a second attempt, based on an invasion of Cornwall.

  In the case of the first Yorkist claimant, as we have seen, reportedly the Dublin King was eventually captured by Henry VII and was later employed in a menial capacity in his household. However, we have also learned that another version of the story exists, which states that ‘Edward VI’ escaped after the Battle of Stoke, and that the subsequent kitchen servant of Henry VII was, in reality, a different person, of a different age.

  In the case of the second claimant, when all of Richard of England’s attempts on the English throne had failed, he too was eventually captured by Henry VII – and that capture has never been disputed. Subsequently, however, Perkin Warbeck was treated in a totally different manner from Lambert Simnel. Eventually he was placed in prison in the Tower of London,and in 1499 Henry VII had him put to death.

 

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