Thursday, 30 October 2025

Kieran Molly's 'Yorkist Pretenders to the Tudor Throne' 2024

 

Pen & Sword History first edition - 2024

Ever since the [in]famous 1066 and All That was published in 1930, Lamnel/Wermkin Simkin and Percy Warmneck/Warmnel/Wimneck have attracted mirthful attention. As Kieran Molloy says in his Introduction, ‘Who, it might credibly be asked, would back a Lambert or a Perkin to be king of England?’  Randolph Jones, in several Bulletin articles (including the most recent September issue – ‘Jehan le Sage. The boy who would be king’); Ian Arthurson; Nathen Amin; and, especially, Anne Wroe in her ‘The Perfect Prince’, all have tackled this conundrum. 

Molloy’s book, part prose part playscript (courtroom drama), posits several interesting surmises. He argues that the identity of Lambert Simnel is a greater mystery than that of Perkin Warbeck, and produces a ‘part detective story…with a dose of speculation layered on top’. The traditional narrative concerning Simnel owes much to Polydore Vergil, but Molloy also highlights the chroniclers Adrian de But, Jean de Molinet and Bernard AndrĂ©. He suggests there are three realistic possibilities for Simnel’s identity: one of the two Princes in the Tower, Edward, Earl of Warwick and an imposter. The evidence for it being Richard of Shrewsbury is ‘almost non-existent’ (only AndrĂ© refers to the crowning of Edward IV’s second son in Dublin); whilst Vergil does write that the Germans had come to restore (ad resitiuendum) the boy Edward. What of Warwick?  Of note is the Act of Attainder, issued when Clarence was on trial for treason in 1478, stating that the duke had caused ‘a straunge childe to have been brought into his Castell of Warwyck, and there to have putte and kept the likenesse of his Sonne and Heire’, whilst the real heir was sent to Ireland. Did this happen? Molloy points to the odd case of Ankarette Twynyho, where this possibly suspicious servant was silenced. Did the real Warwick, brought up in Ireland from the age of two, re-emerge to be crowned, whilst Henry’s ‘Warwick’ in the Tower was the ‘straunge’ young man?

Molloy next puts a forensic eye on the traditional tale of Lambert Simnel, whose name only came to light in the Act of Attainder issued in November 1487. Discrepancies in the official narrative are numerous. Could such a boy have been tutored by a humble priest, during a maximum of nine months, to impersonate one of the three possible contenders in Dublin? Why would Margaret of Burgundy support someone of non-royal blood for king?  Why would the Earl of Lincoln defer his legal claim to the throne in favour of a parvenue or even the real Warwick, who was legally debarred?  Who was Elizabeth Woodville backing? ‘There is only one person who, as king, would make such a move worthwhile: her son, Edward V.’ No wonder she was suddenly confined to Bermondsey Abbey! Molloy suggests that there were two plots: one in Ireland, backed by supporters of the Earl of Warwick, and a second, based in England, backing Edward V. He further suggests two different outcomes for Edward V, if it was he – transforming into a John Clement, who enrolled at Louvain University some seven months after Stoke Field; or a John Evans, buried in the remote north Devon village of Coldridge. Molloy summarises: first, that the real Earl of Warwick was alive, probably living in Ireland in 1486; secondly, the support for the 1486 rebellion by both Elizabeth Woodville and John de la Pole, ‘can only be rationalized by including a son of Edward IV – Edward V – at the centre of the rebellion. It was not a case of either/or, but both…no serious analysis of the Simnel affair could doubt Henry VII’s version was fiction.’

As for the drama – the trial of ‘Perkin Warbeck’ is placed in a framework of sixth form debate, where the Earl of Oxford presides and the prosecution is led by Cardinal Morton and the defence by Dean William Worsley. Witnesses include Giles Daubenay, Jean le Sauvage and Katherine Gordon. Initially wary, I found myself being carried along by the arguments and counter arguments. It was even handed, if occasionally verbose. There was little new but it was effective. Molloy admits there are still ‘loose ends’, and the drama concludes with the jury still out. So is this Reviewer.

The author is a retired Professor of Inorganic Chemistry; this brings to mind C.P. Snow’s lecture and subsequent book ‘The Two Cultures’ (1959), which highlighted the deleterious effect of a division between Science and the Humanities. Kieran Molloy is an admirable antidote. 

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