A Fake Prince Lands in Furness History Gets Weird in 1487 - Furness Whisper

Imagine, if you will, the year is 1487. England, still reeling from the Wars of the Roses, a right royal ruckus that left the country in a bit of a state, wouldn’t you know. Suddenly, a rumour sweeps the land like a biting northerly wind – a young lad, Lambert Simnel by name, is claiming to be the rightful heir to the throne! Blimey!

Now, here’s the rub. Simnel, you see, wasn’t exactly cut from the royal cloth. More likely, he was a commoner, perhaps the son of a craftsman, caught up in a scheme as daft as a brush. But those who weren’t too keen on the new king, Henry VII, well, they were all ears, weren’t they?

And where did Simnel and his band of merry men choose to make their grand entrance? Furness, of all places! Picture it: a wild and windswept corner of the north-west coast. Grey skies loom overhead, the wind howls through the ancient forests, and the crashing waves of the Irish Sea batter the rugged coastline. Not exactly the place you’d expect a royal pretender to land, is it?

Historians still haven’t quite figured out why they chose Furness, but here are a few notions:

Perhaps they fancied a bit of peace and quiet. Furness, miles away from the hustle and bustle of London, would have been a right proper hideaway for those plotting against the king. Imagine: mist swirling through the valleys, concealing their movements; the only sounds the bleating of sheep and the cries of ravens circling overhead. Like hiding in plain sight, but with a good dose of sea mist and the cries of gulls for company.

Or maybe the locals were a bit miffed with the new king? Perhaps they harboured a fondness for the old Yorkist lot, and Simnel’s arrival offered a glimmer of hope for a return to the old ways. Imagine the whispers in the taverns, the furtive glances exchanged in the market square, the hopes and fears of a community caught in the crossfire of a power struggle. A bit of “Tudor Takeover Trouble,” eh?

Sadly for Simnel and his crew, their little escapade went down like a lead balloon. They couldn’t drum up enough support, and King Henry, well, he wasn’t known for his forgiving nature, was he? He put a stop to their shenanigans at the Battle of Stoke in June 1487. One can almost hear the clash of steel, the cries of the wounded, and the thunder of hooves as Henry’s forces crushed the rebellion. As for young Simnel, luckily for him, he was just a lad, so he was spared the chop and ended up working in the royal kitchens. From pretend prince to pot-washer, eh? What a turn up!

Simnel’s landing in Furness might seem like a mere footnote in the grand scheme of things, but it’s a cracking yarn, isn’t it? It shows how even in the far-flung corners of the realm, the echoes of great events could be felt. And it reminds us that history can be a right rum business, full of twists and turns that would make your head spin.