Sketches of Imposture, Deception, and Credulity

by R. A. Davenport

Having been well tutored by the Duchess of Burgundy, Perkin repaired to Ireland, which was chosen as the proper place for his first appearance. He landed at Cork, assuming the name of Richard, Duke of York, son of Edward the Fourth, and drew around him many partisans from among that credulous people. The news soon reached France; and Charles of France, then on the point of war with Henry, sent Perkin an invitation to repair to him, at Paris. On his arrival, he was received with all the marks of regard due to the Duke of York, as the rightful heir to the British throne. Perkin, both by his deportment and personal qualities, supported the opinion which was spread abroad of his royal pedigree; and the whole kingdom was full of the accomplishments, as well as the singular adventures, of the young Plantagenet.

Wonders of this nature are commonly augmented by distance. From France, the admiration and credulity diffused themselves into England. Sir George Neville, Sir George Taylor, and above one hundred gentlemen more, went to Paris in order to offer their services to the supposed Duke of York, and to share his fortunes. Alarmed by the pretender having gained so powerful a friend, Henry the Seventh signed a treaty of peace with Charles, who immediately ordered the adventurer to retire from his dominions. Perkin now solicited the protection of the Dowager Duchess of Burgundy. She gave him a warm reception, and bestowed on him the appellation of the White Rose of England. This behaviour of hers induced numbers to give credence to his story, as it was thought impossible that the aunt could be mistaken as to the personal identity of her nephew.

In consequence of the great communication between the Low Countries and England, the English were every day more prepossessed in favour of the impostor. Disgusted with Henry’s government, men of the highest birth and quality began to turn their eyes to the new claimant, and even opened a correspondence with him.

Sir Robert Clifford, with others, went over to Burgundy and tendered to Perkin their services. Clifford even wrote back to say that he knew perfectly the person of Richard, Duke of York, and that this young man was undoubtedly that prince himself. The whole nation was in suspense, and a regular conspiracy was formed against the king’s authority.

Henry showed great ingenuity in detecting who this wonderful person was that thus boldly advanced pretensions to his crown. His spies insinuated themselves amongst the young man’s friends, and bribed his retainers and domestic servants—nay, sometimes his confessor himself; and, in the end, the whole conspiracy was laid before him, and many of the chief conspirators were condemned and executed.

Perkin, however, continued at large, and made a descent on Kent, where he was repulsed. He then returned to Flanders, whence he sailed to Cork, but the Irish were no longer disposed to espouse his cause. In Scotland, however, to which he next proceeded, he was more fortunate. James, the monarch of that country, recognised him as “the true prince,” and not only gave to him in marriage a near relation, Lady Catherine Gordon, but also took up arms in his behalf. But, failing in two incursions in England, James grew tired of the contest, and consented to treat with Henry. Either fearing that he might be given up, or having received an intimation to withdraw, Perkin quitted Scotland with four ships and eighty followers, made a vain attempt at Cork to obtain aid from the Earl of Desmond, and finally landed in Cornwall, the men of which county had recently been in rebellion. Six thousand Cornishmen joined him, and at their head he assaulted Exeter, but was defeated by the citizens. Finding that Henry, with an overwhelming force, was now at hand, his courage failed him, and he took refuge in the sanctuary of Beaulieu, in Hampshire. He gave himself up on a promise of pardon, but was committed to the Tower. He was subsequently executed, on a charge of having, while imprisoned in the Tower, formed a treasonable plan with the Earl of Warwick to effect their escape, and raise the standard of insurrection.

Pretenders to royalty have not been of uncommon occurrence in other countries. In Portugal, the doubts respecting Sebastian having been really slain at the battle of Alcaçar, gave rise to several attempts to personate that chivalrous but rash monarch. Five or six impostors succeeded each other; of one claimant to the name and title of the Portuguese sovereign, however, the pretensions were so plausibly or so truly supported, that serious doubts have been entertained whether he was not “the true prince,” and no “false thief.”

Of the most conspicuous of these pretenders, the first is said to have been a pastry-cook of Madrigal, Gabriel de Spinosa by name. He was tutored to act his part by Father Michael de los Santos, an Augustin friar, who had been chaplain to Don Sebastian. The friar had spoken so freely in Portugal against the Spanish usurpation, that Philip of Spain removed him out of the country, and made him confessor to a convent of nuns, at Madrigal. Donna Anna of Austria, Philip’s niece, was one of the inmates of this convent. To this princess the friar introduced the pretended Sebastian, who played his assumed character so well that she gave him some rich jewels to raise money. While he was endeavouring to dispose of these valuables privately at Madrid, he was apprehended as a thief. He declared his real profession, and that the jewels belonged to Donna Anna, and he would perhaps have been released, had not his plot been betrayed by the intercepting of a letter, in which he was addressed with the title of majesty. The result was that he and the friar were hanged, and the princess was removed to another convent and rigorously confined for the rest of her life.

The pertinacious belief of the Portuguese, that Sebastian would yet return, and their hatred of the Spanish domination, soon encouraged others to follow the example of Spinosa. The son of a tiler at Alcobaça, who, after leading a loose life, had turned hermit, next came forward to personate the much-desired monarch. He was accompanied by two companions, one of whom assumed the name of Don Christopher de Tavora, and the other took the title of the Bishop of Guarda. They began to raise money, and to collect partisans round them. Their career was, however, cut short by the archduke, who caused them to be apprehended. The pseudo Sebastian was ignominiously paraded through the streets of Lisbon, and then sent to the galleys for life; the self-appointed bishop was sentenced to be hanged.