the spark, that afterwards kindled such a fire and combustion, was at the first contemptible.

There was a subtile priest called Richard Simon, that lived in Oxford, and had to his pupil a baker's son' named Lambert Simnell, of the age of some fifteen years; a comely youth, and well favoured, not without some extraordinary dignity and grace of aspect. It came into this priest's fancy (hearing what men talked, and in hope to raise himself to some great bishoprick) to cause this lad to counterfeit and personate the second son of Edward the Fourth, supposed to be murdered; and afterward (for he changed his intention in the manage) the Lord Edward Plantagenet, then prisoner in the Tower; and accordingly to frame him and instruct him in the part he was to play. This is that which (as was touched before) seemeth scarcely credible; not that a false person should be assumed to gain a kingdom, for it hath been seen in ancient and late times; nor that it should come into the mind of such an abject fellow to enterprise so great a matter; for high conceits do sometimes come streaming into the imaginations of base persons; especially when they are drunk with news and talk of the people. But here is that which hath no appearance 2; that this priest, being utterly unacquainted with the true person according to whose pattern he should shape his counterfeit, should think it possible for him to instruct his player, either in gesture and fashions, or in recounting past matters of his life and education, or in fit answers to questions, or the like, any ways to come near the resemblance of him whom he was to represent. For this lad was not to personate one that had been long before taken out of his cradle, or conveyed away in his infancy, known to few; but a youth that till the age almost of ten years had been brought up in a court where infinite eyes had been upon him. For King Edward, touched with remorse of his brother the Duke of Clarence's death, would not indeed restore his son (of whom we speak) to be Duke of Clarence, but yet created him Earl of Warwick, reviving his honour on the mother's side, and

1 Speed, on the authority it seems of Bernard Andrè, says son of a baker or shoemaker. Archbishop Sancroft, on the authority of the priest's declaration before the convocation of clergy, Feb. 17, 1486 (Reg. Morton. f. 34.), says that he was the son of an organ-maker in Oxford, and that the priest's name was William Simonds. See note on this passage in Blackbourne's ed. of Bacon's works, vol. iii. p. 407., said to be from Sancroft's MS. In the act of attainder of the Earl of Lincoln (Rolls of Parl. vol. vi. p. 397.) he is styled "one Lambert Symnell, a child of x yere of age, sonne to Thomas Symnell, late of Oxford, joynoure."

2 Quod minime videtur probabile.

used him honourably during his time, though Richard the Third afterwards confined him. So that it cannot be, but that some great person, that knew particularly and familiarly Edward Plantagenet, had a hand in the business, from whom the priest might take his aim. That which is most probable, out of the precedent and subsequent acts, is, that it was the Queen Dowager from whom this action had the principal source and motion. For certain it is, she was a busy negotiating woman, and in her withdrawing-chamber had the fortunate conspiracy for the King against King Richard the Third been hatched; which the King knew, and remembered perhaps but too well; and was at this time extremely discontent with the King, thinking her daughter (as the King handled the matter) not advanced but depressed: and none could hold the book so well to prompt and instruct this stage-play, as she could. Nevertheless it was not her meaning, nor no more was it the meaning of any of the better and sager sort that favoured this enterprise and knew the secret, that this disguised idol should possess the crown; but at his peril to make way to the overthrow of the King; and that done, they had their several hopes and ways. That which doth chiefly fortify this conjecture is, that as soon as the matter brake forth in any strength, it was one of the King's first acts to cloister the Queen Dowager in the nunnery of Bermondsey, and to take away all her lands and estate'; and this by a close counsel, without any legal proceed

This is distinctly stated by Polydore Vergil, Hall, and Speed. Dr. Lingard disputes the fact, referring to the collection of unpublished Acts by Rymer; Hen. VII. Nos. 29, 39. Her dower (he says), of which she had been deprived by Richard III., had not been restored by Henry's parliament: instead of it the king granted her a compensation. Which is true. From the calendar of the Patent Rolls now deposited in the Rolls Chapel, it appears (p. 160.) that on the 4th of March 1485-6 various lordships and manors were granted to her for life in part recompence of her dowry, and that on the following day other lordships and manors, of which the enumeration occupies forty-six lines, together with certain "yearly payments," amounting altogether to 6551. 7s. 64d., were in like manner granted to her for life in recompence of the residue of her dowry.

Dr. Lingard does not indeed allege any grounds for thinking that this compensation was not now withdrawn; which would justify Polydore's statement in substance. But he does allege good reasons for thinking that Polydore's account of the severity exercised towards the Queen Dowager for the rest of her days is exaggerated; the principal evidence to the contrary being the project of a marriage between her and James III. of Scotland, which was certainly entertained in the following year. See Rymer, xii. 329. It is also certain that on the 19th of February 1490, an annuity of 4001, was granted to her (Cal. Pat, Rolls, 5 Hen. VII. p. 38.). But this may have been in consideration of the withdrawal of the former grant,-if it was withdrawn.

Bacon does not seem to have had any original information on this matter. He merely repeats the original story as he found it; and we can only infer from his adoption of it that he had seen no reason for doubting its accuracy. It is certainly not

ing, upon far-fetched pretences, that she had delivered her two daughters out of sanctuary to King Richard, contrary to promise. Which proceeding being even at that time taxed for rigorous and undue, both in matter and manner, makes it very probable there was some greater matter against her, which the King upon reason of policy and to avoid envy would not publish. It is likewise no small argument that there was some secret in it and some suppressing of examinations, for that the priest Simon himself after he was taken was never brought to execution; no not so much as to public trial (as many clergymen were upon less treasons); but was only shut up close in a dungeon. Add to this that after the Earl of Lincoln (a principal person of the house of York) was slain in Stoke-field, the King opened himself to some of his counsel, that he was sorry for the Earl's death, because by him (he said) he might have known the bottom of his danger.

But to return to the narration itself: Simon did first instruct his scholar for the part of Richard Duke of York, second son to King Edward the Fourth; and this was at such time as it was voiced that the King purposed to put to death Edward Plantagenet prisoner in the Tower, whereat there was great murmur. But hearing soon after a general bruit that Plantagenet had escaped out of the Tower', and thereby finding him so much beloved amongst the people, and such rejoicing at his escape, the cunning priest changed his copy, and chose now Plantagenet to be the subject his pupil should personate, because he was more in the present speech and votes of the people; and it pieced better, and followed more close and handsomely upon the bruit of Plantagenet's escape. But yet doubting that there would be too near looking and too much perspective into his disguise, if he should shew it here in England; he thought good (after the manner of scenes in stageplays and masks) to shew it afar off; and therefore sailed with his scholar into Ireland, where the affection to the house of

true that the Queen Dowager was entirely secluded from court for the remainder of her life; for she was with her daughter in November 1489 (Lel. iv. p. 249). It probably is true that she was not much at court, but lived in retirement; for which there may have been many reasons. She was growing old; the King's mother was generally with the Queen; and it often happens that the mother and the mother-in-law can live more comfortably at a little distance from each other. The King may have been obliged to choose which of the two he would have in his house, his own mother or his wife's. 1 Polydore says, in carcere interiisse. In this Bacon seems to have followed Hall, who says the rumour was that he had broken out of prison.

2 Minus sibi tutum futurum, et hominum curiositati et inquisitioni magis obnoxium.

York was most in height. The King had been a little improvident in the matters of Ireland, and had not removed officers and counsellors, and put in their places, or at least intermingled, persons of whom he stood assured; as he should have done, since he knew the strong bent of that country towards the house of York, and that it was a ticklish and unsettled state, more easy to receive distempers and mutations than England was. But trusting to the reputation of his victories and successes in England, he thought he should have time enough to extend his cares afterwards to that second kingdom.

Wherefore through this neglect, upon the coming of Simon with his pretended Plantagenet into Ireland, all things were prepared for revolt and sedition, almost as if they had been set and plotted beforehand. Simon's first address was to the Lord Thomas Fitz-Gerard, Earl of Kildare and Deputy of Ireland; before whose eyes he did cast such a mist (by his own insinuation, and by the carriage of his youth, that expressed a natural princely behaviour) as, joined perhaps with some inward vapours of ambition and affection in the Earl's own mind, left him fully possessed that it was the true Plantagenet. The Earl presently communicated the matter with some of the nobles and others there, at the first secretly. But finding them of like affection to himself, he suffered it of purpose to vent and pass abroad; because they thought it not safe to resolve, till they had a taste of the people's inclination. But if the great ones were in forwardness, the people were in fury, entertaining this airy body or phantasm with incredible affection; partly out of their great devotion to the house of York, partly out of a proud humour in the nation to give a King to the realm of England. Neither did the party in this heat of affection much trouble themselves with the attainder of George Duke of Clarence; having newly learned by the King's example that attainders do not interrupt the conveying of title to the crown. And as for the daughters of King Edward the Fourth, they thought King Richard had said enough for them 2; and took them to be but as of the King's party, because they were in his power and at his disposing. So that with marvellous consent and applause, this counterfeit Plantagenet was brought with great solemnity

i.e. the example of Richard had shown that their claim was no insuperable impediment. The Latin is fuller-fucile innitebantur repulsæ quam a Rege Richardo hæreditate regni summotæ, tulissent.

to the castle of Dublin, and there saluted, served, and honoured as King; the boy becoming it well, and doing nothing that did bewray the baseness of his condition. And within a few days after he was proclaimed King in Dublin, by the name of King Edward the Sixth; there being not a sword drawn in King Henry his quarrel.

The King was much moved with this unexpected accident, when it came to his ears, both because it struck upon that string which ever he most feared1, as also because it was stirred in such a place, where he could not with safety transfer his own person to suppress it. For partly through natural valour and partly through an universal suspicion (not knowing whom to trust) he was ever ready to wait upon all his achievements in person. The King therefore first called his counsel together at the Charter-house at Shine 2; which counsel was held with great secrecy, but the open decrees thereof, which presently came abroad, were three.

The first was, that the Queen Dowager, for that she, contrary to her pact and agreement with those that had concluded with her concerning the marriage of her daughter Elizabeth with King Henry, had nevertheless delivered her daughters out of sanctuary into King Richard's hands, should be cloistered in the nunnery of Bermondsey 3, and forfeit all her lands and goods.

The next was, that Edward Plantagenet, then close prisoner in the Tower, should be, in the most public and notorious manner that could be devised, shewed unto the people: in part to discharge the King of the envy of that opinion and bruit, how he had been put to death privily in the Tower; but chiefly to make the people see the levity and imposture of the proceedings of Ireland, and that their Plantagenet was indeed but a puppet or a counterfeit.

1 i.e. the revival of the York title. Tituli scilicet Eboracensis familiæ resuscita

tionem.

2 This was soon after Candlemas, 1486-7. See the Herald's narrative, Cott. MSS., Jul. B. xii. fo. 23.; or Leland, IV. p. 208.

This fact is stated by Speed, on the authority probably of Hall; who says that she lived ever after in the Abbey of Bermondsey at Southwark, a wretched and miserable life, where not long after she deceased." The statement as to her residing there for the rest of her life is confirmed by the fact that her will, which is dated 10th April, 1492, was witnessed by the Abbot of Bermondsey; and it seems that she had a right, under the will of the founder, to accommodation in the state apartments there. If there be any ground for supposing that Henry compelled her to reside there against her will, it may be imputed perhaps to his natural aversion to see a good thing thrown away. Her pension may possibly have been given upon condition that she should not pay for lodgings when she might have them for nothing. See note p. 46.