That he was of noble birth everyone was ready to accept. Lord Desmond was teaching him to speak fluently in English and with an acceptable accent.
The Irish peers discussed the boy.
“He could not be the son of Clarence because he is still in the Tower,” said Desmond, “where he has been languishing since the accession of the Tudor—for no other reason, of course, than that he has a stronger claim to the throne than Henry. But he could be one of the sons of Edward the Fourth . . . those Princes who were kept in the Tower. No one knows what became of them.”
That seemed very likely. Could he be Edward the Fifth? Was he old enough for that? It seemed far more likely that he was the younger brother, Richard Duke of York.
Now if he were the young Duke of York he was in fact the true King of England providing his brother Edward the Fifth was dead.
It was an exciting project. It was just what the Irish peers were looking for. They wanted a Yorkist claimant to the throne; they were always ready for a fight; and there was nothing they liked better than bringing trouble to the English King.
Moreover, let them produce the true King of England, let them lead a rebellion against the Tudor, set the young King on the throne, and he would not forget what he owed to Ireland.
Lord Desmond was constantly in the company of Peter Warbeck. They conversed together of the affairs of England and Ireland and they decided that what had happened was that Peter (his real name was Richard Plantagenet) had been put into the Tower by his uncle Richard the Third. When Henry Tudor won the Battle of Bosworth Field he planned to murder the two little boys—which he must do, for he was to marry their sister; which he could not do if she were illegitimate (as Richard the Third proclaimed the family to be) and if she were not illegitimate then her brothers were not either; and if they were not then they were the true heirs to the throne. So here, according to Peter Warbeck, was what had happened.
The two little Princes had been taken out of the Tower and given to certain gentlemen who had orders to kill them. This was carried out in the case of the elder—King Edward the Fifth. His brother, Richard Duke of York, fared differently. The gentleman who had been selected to kill him found that he could not commit so foul a deed, for he was deeply moved by the boy’s guilelessness and could not bring himself to destroy such innocence. He had paid two men to take the boy away, strip him of his identity, give him a new name. “Swear that for eight years you will not divulge his story,” they were told. “On this condition only can his life be spared.”
So the boy was taken abroad; he wandered around and was finally taken into the house of the Warbecks who accepted him as their son.
It was a likely story—at least it was good enough to start with.
There came the day when Peter’s speech and manners were so perfect that Lord Desmond thought they should move into action. He proposed to send messages to the sovereigns of Europe announcing the fact that the younger son of Edward the Fourth, about whose death—with that of his brother—there had been a longstanding mystery, had come forth and was about to lay claim to the throne of England. His brother had been murdered, but by a miracle Richard Duke of York had escaped. As true King of England he asked those whom he was sure were his friends and would wish to see justice done, to aid him to get what was his and drive the usurping Tudor back to Wales and obscurity where he belonged.
There was immediate interest. Henry Tudor was known to be insecure on the throne; the King of France and the Emperor Maximilian would not be averse to a little trouble in England. It was always wise to keep kings engaged on their own doorsteps. It prevented their meddling in the affairs of others.
The King of Scotland sent a warm invitation for Peter to visit him; but before he could reply there was another invitation—this time from the King of France.
This was too important to be dismissed and Peter set out for France without delay.
It was at this time that Henry heard what was happening and knew that he had to discover all he could about this Peter Warbeck who called himself the Duke of York. That the man was a liar Henry was well aware. He could have told the world that it was quite impossible for him to be the Duke of York. But how could he be so sure? they would ask. There was the crux of the matter. Henry was sure, but he did not want the reason for his certainty to be known.
He sent spies to the Continent to find out how far this matter had gone and who was involved in it.
He remembered how his contemptuous treatment of Lambert Simnel had reduced the boy to a figure of fun. It showed the people how those who set out to take a crown from a king could end up watching the spits in that king’s kitchen.
He talked not angrily of this impostor but slightingly, giving him the nickname Perkin, which was sometimes given to those called Peter.
In Court circles and in the streets they talked of Perkin Warbeck and the name Henry had given him did surprisingly diminish his stature.
Henry was getting very concerned when he heard through his spies that the King of France had received Perkin Warbeck with honor as though he were indeed visiting royalty. He knew that his enemies on the Continent were just waiting to see him fall. It was a perpetual nightmare. During his early years he had been striving for the throne and when he eventually achieved it he discovered that his real troubles had begun. To be ever watchful of enemies, wondering constantly who was plotting against him, to be in constant dread of assassination . . . was this what he had dreamed of all those years in exile?
But he was committed now. He had to hold his throne for the sake of his son, King-Arthur-to-be, for the sake of the House of Tudor.
Some might have shrugged aside this ridiculous impostor, have told the world that he was liar and cheat—and the reason why it was a certainty if necessary.
Sometimes it was in the interests of peace that murder should be committed. Henry could assure himself that only in such circumstances would he be guilty of it. He wanted to be a good strong king; he wanted to bring prosperity to England; he wanted to leave a great country behind him when he died. He wanted Arthur to have an easier life than he had. Was that wrong? What happened to countries ruled by minors? There was always trouble. Looking back over history this was a lesson which stood out clearly. He had come to the throne through conquest. He did have a claim. He was descended from great British Kings Arthur and Cadwallader—his mother was descended from John of Gaunt and his grandmother had been Queen of England and daughter of the King of France. Was that not good enough?
The people would realize in time that a serious-minded king who sought to do what was best for the people was more worthy to rule than some little boy with pretty manners—even if he were the true son of Edward the Fourth, which this ridiculous young Perkin was most definitely not.
There was one ray of light. The French King was eager to complete the Treaty of Etaples and Henry would refuse to sign until Charles had promised that he would give no aid or shelter to pretenders to the English throne.
At least that was a small victory.
Charles signed the treaty and the result was that Perkin Warbeck with his adherents was asked—very politely—to leave France.
This Perkin did but he had already received an invitation to visit Margaret Duchess of Burgundy.
The Duchess of Burgundy, the sister of Edward the Fourth, was a forceful woman who had on the death of her husband become a very powerful one.
She was devoted to her family. Like all of them she had adored her eldest brother Edward and one of the great sorrows of her life had been the quarrel between Edward and their brother George Duke of Clarence, which had ended by Clarence’s being drowned in a butt of malmsey in the Tower. It was said to have been an accident because he had been a heavy drinker and it was assumed he had fallen into the butt during one of his bouts of drunkenness. Margaret did not know whether to believe the story or not, but she suspected George had become a menace and that Edward had removed him for that reason.