“Let this Lambert Simnel become one of our scullions,” said the King. “I doubt not he will soon forget his grand aspirations there.”
So Richard Simon, congratulating himself that he had escaped the barbarous traitor’s death, lived on in prison —a contrast to the archbishop’s palace of which he had dreamed; as for Lambert he was happy in the King’s kitchens. His fellow workers laughed at him but without malice, so Lambert laughed with them; and he worked hard and well. He was happier there than he had been sitting on an uncomfortable but very grand chair with a crown on his head.
In the streets they laughed at the story of Lambert Simnel—which, said the King to his mother, was the way he had hoped it would be.
Coronation
lthough people laughed to think of the leader of a rebellion now working as a scullion in the King’s own kitchens, Henry himself did not dismiss the matter so lightly. He talked it over with a young man whom he had recently made one of his Privy Councillors and toward whom he had felt especially drawn. This was Edmund Dudley, a lawyer in his twenties who was showing characteristics which were not unlike the King’s own.
Henry wanted to gather round him men of his own choosing. No king should inherit statesmen for they would most certainly compare the present master with the previous one and as the departed always gained in stature such comparisons put the living at a disadvantage.
Henry’s early life had made him suspicious and cautious and acceding to the throne had not lessened these traits in his character. Edmund Dudley who had studied law at Gray’s Inn and had later become Sheriff of Sussex was a man with whom he felt immediately in harmony; also Dudley had an associate, Richard Empson, another lawyer, educated for the Bar, who had already shown himself to be an astute lawyer. These were the kind of sharp minds Henry needed around him; and he had already shown favor to these two.
So now as they walked down to the river’s edge in the grounds of his favorite Palace of Shene and they talked of the rising of Lambert Simnel, Dudley commented that it was a sobering thought to contemplate how many Lincoln had been able to rally to his banner.
“And what do you think this indicates?” asked the King.
Intercepting the look which passed between Dudley and Empson, Henry knew that they had discussed the matter together.
“Come, speak up. I shall not be offended by truth.”
“Sire,” said Dudley, “the people approve of your marriage and the uniting of York and Lancaster, but they are saying that York does not receive its dues.”
“What do they mean by this?”
“That Lancaster is in the ascendancy.”
“It must be so since I am the King.”
Dudley hesitated and Empson nodded to him.
“My lord,” he said, “you have taken the throne, you have an heir in Prince Arthur, you have been crowned King of England, yet the Queen has not been crowned.”
“Ah,” said the King. “You think a coronation would please the people?”
“Coronations are ever a source of delight to the people, Sire,” said Empson. “Free wine in the streets . . . celebrations throughout the country . . . They love their ceremonies. But we were thinking of the Yorkists who might have reason to complain.”
The King nodded, giving an approving look to his two advisers. He could trust them to come up with a tangible suggestion.
“Perhaps the time has come then for the Queen to have her coronation,” he said. “Her mother is a source of irritation. I never trusted that woman. People say it was sorcery which enabled her to ensnare the late King.”
“She has outstanding beauty,” commented Dudley. Again he looked at Empson.
“And not too old for marriage I dareswear,” he said.
Henry was alert. “Could you by any chance be thinking of the King of Scotland?”
“He has just lost his Queen.”
Henry gave one of his rare smiles. “There is nothing I would like better than to send my mother-in-law over the Border.”
“It would certainly rid us of the unpleasantness of having to keep her under restraint, which is another reason why the Yorkists might be restive,” commented Dudley.
“I shall send an ambassador to Scotland without delay,” said Henry.
“Perhaps we should also inform the Dowager Queen of the intention?”
Henry was silent. “She is an obstinate lady, I fear.”
“My lord, surely she would consider very favorably changing a prison for a crown.”
“’Tis scarcely a prison at Bermondsey. I’ll swear my lady mother-in-law reminds them every hour of the day of her rank and is treated there with the utmost respect.”
“Nevertheless the match could scarcely be made without her consent.”
Henry agreed and the two matters of importance were decided on. Elizabeth Woodville should be offered to the King of Scotland, and the Queen should have her coronation.
