S10 E12 | To Bosworth

Friends, the dawn of a new era for this history is almost upon us. After this episode, it's goodbye to the Plantagenets, but hello to the tutors. Before we get there, you need to hear how the story of England's last Plantagenet King ends. That's all coming up for you in this episode, and yes, even Richard III's little flirtation with incest. But if you want to know more about the last critical months of Richard III's reign, give this week's bonus episode a listen. Together, producer Al and I will be delving into the legacy of the Plantagenet dynasty and how Richard's greed and ambition extinguished it after being in power for three hundred and thirty-one years. But in the meantime, it's time for Richard's last act. After this, short break. When you put your body in the hands of a surgeon, you assume your doctor will do you no harm. I'm looking at the surgery board for tomorrow, going, "These people are f---ers." But when your doctor's in it just for the money, something absolutely insane happens. One doctor says, "Yeah, I did a lumbar fusion. My kickback was 25,000, and the other doctor's going, "Well, I only got 12,000 because I did a neck." This is a story about a massive web of fraud and deception, dozens of doctors, all over Southern California, a fraud worth over one billion dollars. "Patients were committing suicide, losing their homes, losing their marriages." From Sony Music Entertainment and Western Sound, this is Dr. Billions, available now on The Binge. Search for Dr. Billions wherever you get your podcasts. Subscribers to The Binge can listen to all episodes, all at once, ad-free. I'm Jennifer, and I'm Angela Kinsey, and together we have the podcast Office Ladies. Just because we finish rewatching the office does not mean we're going anywhere. Every Wednesday we'll be sharing even more exclusive stories from the office and our friendship with brand new guests. Plus, you can revisit all the Office Ladies' rewatch episodes every Monday with new bonus tidbits before every episode. So follow and listen to Office Ladies on the free Odyssey app and wherever you get your podcasts. Ridge of the Third wakes up before dawn, wrenched out of a fitful sleep by a terrible dream. All around him, thousands of men are still slumbering. Sam are intense. Others are asleep under the stars. Other than the horses, he's the only soul up to watch the sunrise. Richard blinks into the grey half-light, trying to shake off the terrors that were just dancing before his mind's eye. What little of the night he slept, he's seen evil spirits dancing around him. They've been cavorting, tormenting him, refusing to let him rest, and he's just about done with watching them. Richard gets up and wanders a little way around the army camp. He's hungry, but the fires of last night are all now burned down to nothing and no one from the camp kitchen is up to make him anything to eat. So he looks to see if there's a chaplain who can do him a quick mass, but they're resting too. For a few moments then, Richard is completely and utterly alone. 32 years of life have brought him here, to a field in Leicestershire near the town of Market Bosworth. And now, God will decide whether everything he's done across the course of that life is going to be given the stamp of divine approval or not. It's August 22, 1485, and in the days leading up to this showdown, Richard has been bullish. He's been king for two years and two months, and he hopes he's made it clear in that time what happens to people who mess with him. But in case it needs to be said again, he has proclaimed that enemies of the realm will be granted no quarter. He means to deal with the current disturbances, and then, in the words of a chronicler, Richard has declared it his intention if he should prove the conqueror to crush all supporters of the opposite faction. Though he's tired, and his dreams have been plagued by demons, Richard does have reason to be confident. His army of 15,000 men is just starting to wake up, and when they're under full arms they'll be a formidable sight, bristling with axes, lances, bows and arrows, even handguns. Nearby, another detachment of troops is camped, commanded by the powerful Northern Nobleman Lord Stanley. Richard expects them to get stuck in whenever he needs them. The rebels he's in the field to destroy, meanwhile, are fighting for a guy who's basically an unknown, a Welsh French nobody, who's only the figurehead of revolt because he's the last man left that Richard hasn't exiled or killed. Henry Tudor is an annoying bug, and today, he's going to get squashed. In other words, today is going to be another day when Richard demonstrates the futility of resisting him. To make that point crystal clear, when battle begins, he's going in wearing his crown. Everything he has, rightfully obtained or not, is going to be on the table. Bold? Sure. But Richard has been sitting at the high stakes table in the Wars of the Rose's Casino since he was a little boy, holding his mother's hand after his dad ran away from the battle of Ludford Bridge. He's a man of war, hardened by battle after battle and plot after plot. And now, in this Casino, he's the last Plantagenet gambler left. He's about to push all his chips forward. It's all or nothing. On this day, he's told his companions he intends to make end of war or life. I'm Dan Jones and from Sony Music Entertainment. This is history. Season 10 of A Dynastie to Die for. Episode 12 to Bosworth. 132 episodes ago, when I made the first episode of this podcast, I wondered idly to myself, if we'd ever find ourselves here. And by here, I don't mean in this lovely studio, in my comfy chair, with my bookcase behind me, and producer Al watching through the soundproof glass, like a kid, on a visit to the podcast zoo, staring into the enclosure of the endangered ring-tailed history monkey. No, I mean at Bosworth Field, on August the 22nd, 1485, with Richard III suiting up and preparing to defend his crown with his life, if necessary. It's been, for me, and I hope for you too, an epic journey. And so, before we make our way to its unstoppable denouement, I just want to pause for a brief moment and say thank you to everyone who's been along for the ride. Whether you've been down from day one or you're just hopping on the bandwagon, we all appreciate your support, and the good, or bad news, is that we're not done yet, not by a long stretch. But to make sense of that, and indeed, what goes down at Bosworth in August 1485, we need to step back to where we left off our story last episode in 1484. Buckingham's rebellion has backfired, Henry Tudor has come seen and very much not conquered, and Richard looks like he's locked in to wear his stolen crown for as long as he likes, before handing it on in turn to his own heir, the Prince of Wales. Edward of Middleton. So what happens? Well, the first thing is that tragedy strikes, and it involves Prince Edward. In early 1484, the lad is about ten years old. He's been doing his growing up in castles around the north of England, where he enjoys the usual pleasures of an aristocratic childhood. He's taken on trips around the countryside in a chariot, gestures entertaining him in his household. Now and again, he's brought out for a public ceremony, where his dad reminds everyone that his claim to the throne is totally legit. That's probably fun too, so long as little Edward never thinks to ask, "What happened to his cousins?" Still, if there's one thing that the case of the Prince is in the tower made abundantly clear, it's that childhood in the Middle Ages can be precarious, and so it proves, or little Edward's Prince of Wales. April 9, 1484. In 1984 marks exactly a year to the day since the old king Edward IV died, an event that set in chain the crazy sequence of other events that ended up with Richard III on the throne. And as terrible luck, but I'm afraid to say it, karma would have it, on that day, Edward of Middleham dies. He suffered a short illness and, just like that, he's gone. The devastates King Richard and Queen Anne, according to a chronicler, it throws them into a state almost bordering on madness by reason of their sudden grief. And it would be inhuman not to sympathize with them. But it would also be unreasonable not to suggest that the grief is in some way political as well as parental. As a usurper, Richard's security depends on having an heir to the throne, an obvious political path lying ahead for him and for the country. It's true he has a bastard son called John of Pontifract. He's acknowledged him as his offspring and is planning to appoint him as captain of Calais. But Richard has made a whole song and dance about how illegitimacy is terrible and counts out anyone with ambitions to the throne. So he's bound by his own mendacity here. And there's no chance of bringing John of Pontifract into the conversation about the future of the dynasty. Richard's best hope now is to start again with Queen Anne and hope they can produce another legitimate heir to the crown. In the meantime, it makes it to all the more urgent that he stamps on anyone else who might be getting ideas about their own right to the throne. Which in effect means one person, Henry Tudor. Amid the madness of grief that Richard is suffering for his son and heir, there is at least some promising news about Henry. He's back in Brittany, still protected by Duke Francis. But Duke Francis is on his last legs and his will to keep prodding Richard, he's ebbing away. So in the autumn of 1484, Richard manages to negotiate a deal. If the Bretons hand over Henry Tudor, then heel-grant the Oldham of Richmond, which Henry claims as his, to the dukes of Brittany. It's a neat little bit of horse-trading rooted in history. The Oldham of Richmond was first created for Breton pals of William the Conqueror, and for generations it was associated with Brittany. So sentimentality wins out. And for a perilous moment, it looks as though Henry Tudor is going to be sold back to Richard for the price of a nicer state in Yorkshire. But Henry, who by now has quite the court of exiles around him, gets wind that all this is a foot. One of his closest advisors since childhood has been his uncle, Jasper Tudor. Jasper tells Henry it's time to get the hell out of Dodge. So in September 1484, that's exactly what they do. Henry flees Brittany in disguise and goes over the border to France. There's a new king there, Charles VIII, and he quite likes the idea of breaking up any cozy little deal between Richard III and the Bretons. So from the autumn of 1484, France is Henry Tudor's new home, and as that winter goes on, it's the home for plenty more renegades from Richard III's England too. The Earl of Oxford escapes from prison in Calais, and joins the party. Elizabeth Woodville's son, Thomas Gray, Marcus of Dorset is on the bus too. An English academic called Richard Fox, based at the University of Paris, adds some intellectual heft. This is just starting to have the whiff of a court in waiting. Henry has even been signing documents with his regal letter H, as though he's already wearing a crown. Not surprisingly, Richard III absolutely hates this. In December 1484, he issues a big whine from the palace of Westminster in the form of a royal proclamation against all things Tudor. He calls Henry Tudor and friends, traitors, murderers and extortioners, contrary to truth, honour and nature, and dams Henry, for having the nerve to fancy himself as king of England, in fact he has no manner, interest, right or colour as every man knoweth. Well, Ricky baby, it takes one to no one. What's more, harsh language is all well and good, but Richard still needs to actually do something practical to drag Henry's bid for power out of shape. His attempt to wink him out of Brittany has come to nothing. He's in no position to invade France, Richard needs to come up with some plan of attack. Ideally, he needs to attack Henry from an angle he won't have seen coming, and he needs to do it quickly. Fortunately, if there's one thing Richard III is good at, it's coming up with wild, left-field political plays that only a sicko or a genius could possibly have come up with, let alone executed. The Christmas 1484, shortly after his big winges issued at Westminster, Richard comes up with a masterstroke. Henry Tudors appealed to the Yorkists, rests on his sacred oath to marry Richard's niece, Elizabeth of York. But he can't do that if Elizabeth should happen to be married to someone else first. With these basic political facts in mind, Richard puts two and two together, and comes up with a nice round number of. incest. The medieval aristocracy had many virtues, but dressing subtly wasn't one of them. Some outfits looked less like Lord of the Manor and more escaped upholstery, which is one reason I like quince. They make the opposite, timeless pieces in premium materials like 100% Mongolian cashmere and marino wool. I've been wearing one of their soft cashmere sweaters lately, and these 100% Mongolian cashmere sweaters start at just $60. Everything at quince is priced 50% to 80% less than similar brands, because they work directly with ethical factories and cut out the middlemen. Find your next four favourites at quince. Download the Quince app for app exclusive offers or go to quince.com. Get free shipping on your order and 365 day returns, now available in Canada and the UK too. And when quince asks where you heard about them, let them know. It was this is history. It's the best way to support the show. An irate mob has gathered at the hospital of St John in London. People are pushing and shoving, trying to get near the front of the hall, where they'll be able to get their point across to the speaker whenever he arrives. There's a mood in the air that can only be described as disgusted. And rightly so. For months rumours have been flying around the city, indeed around the whole country concerning King Richard's latest political plans, and it's fair to say that the old crown robbing child vanisher has finally found a rage bait that lands with everyone. Since Christmas, the word on the street has been that Richard has been plotting to get rid of his wife, Queen Anne, and replace her with someone more suited to his latest ambitions. That someone is Elizabeth of York, the 19 year old daughter of his dead brother Edward IV. Now there are a thousand reasons not to marry your dead brother's daughter, and it's likely that some of them are written in capital letters in the Old Testament. But in 1485, there's one very good reason to put aside any little worries about being a sicko, to stop Henry Tudor from beating him to it. In Richard's mind, anything that blocks Henry Tudor from advancing his claim to the crown is a perfectly legitimate little manoeuvre. And let's be real, it's not like Richard has had any qualms about abusing other members of his dead brother's family. Just ask Elizabeth Woodville, who's living with the fact that Richard has killed her brother, and one of her sons, has probably killed two more of them and has run a whole load of her siblings out of the realm, fearing for their lives. People of the year, he's not. Nor is he any longer flavor of the month in London at any rate. He was bad enough at the start of the year when the whispers first began about this insistuous marriage, which one Chronicle writes is guaranteed to bring down the abhorrence of the old mighty. Things have got even worse since the spring, because on March the 16th, Queen Anne died. Not surprisingly, people have been claiming she was poisoned and public anger has been mounted. Richard's council are forced to take the unusual step of telling him to get a goddamn grip. They tell him that if he goes ahead with this niece marrying nonsense, then he won't just have grumbling to contend with. They predict that all the people of the North, in whom he places the greatest reliance, will rise up in rebellion against him. That, at last, is enough to focus Richard's mind. He's made the first moves towards marrying Elizabeth of York. He's allowed Elizabeth Woodfield out of sanctuary if she promises to let him decide the future of her daughters, but he pulls back from the old, incest brink. At the hospital of St John, he stands in front of the irked Londoners and announces that he won't be marrying his brother's daughter after all, but he's not happy about it. On June 23rd, he releases another truth-social grade rant against his enemies, condemning Henry Tudor's bastard blood, and promising that if the Tudor's invade, England can expect the disinheriting and destruction of all the noble and worshipful blood of this realm forever. Thank you for your attention in this matter. Okay, so he doesn't say the last bit. Anyway, the fact is Richard is shook and he can't niece fuck his way out of this one. According to the chronicler, Pollydor Virgil, Richard is vexed, rested, and tormented in mind almost perpetually, wherefore he had a miserable life. This sort of thing can get a man down. Across the channel, however, Henry Tudor isn't feeling much more chill, in fact, the same Virgil writes that he's pinched by the very stomach of the prospect that Richard might marry his meal ticket. He's also worried that his supporters from Edward IV's old crew are going to get fed up with waiting and defect back to Richard. The window for doing something doesn't feel like it'll be open forever, and if Henry doesn't shoot his shot in the summer of 1485, that window could slam shut for good. So Henry takes a deep breath and goes for it. He borrows a bit of cash from the new French king Charles VIII, which is enough to hire just 4,000 men and pile them onto a few ships. Then, in the first days of August 1485, he set sail from Onfleur at the mouth of the river Sen in Normandy. He and his uncle Jasper set a course for the other side of the channel, but they're not aiming for England. Instead, they point their noses almost as far west as they can go towards the land of their fathers Wales. It's a long journey, but on Sunday, August 7th, 1485, their modest little armada comes to shore in Milford Haven in West Wales. Henry gets off the ship, wades a shore, and falls to his knees. It's 14 years since he was lost in the realm. He kisses the wet sand and utters the words of Psalm 43. Judge me, O Lord, and plead my cause. At long last, his time has come. You're listening to a quick ad. You know what else is quick? Selling your car on Carvana. Just put in your vehicle information and we'll give you an offer. Done. No hassle, no negotiation, no guy from an online listing lowball in you. Which means, by the time I'm done explaining this, you could have basically done it. Still haven't started? Hey, better late than never. Sell your car today on Carvana. Pick up fees may apply. Henry Tudor's cheerful army marches through the mountains beneath a flag bearing a red dragon on a field of green and white. They've been on the road for a week now and you can see them coming a mile off. They're a hot potch of Englishmen, Frenchmen, Welsh, and even a few scots. So there's a babble of different voices and a whole forest of different banners and flags. They're carrying tools of war, weapons, armor, guns, and they've made no secret of their intent in coming to England. Henry has been sending out messages to Welsh and English for like, asking them to join his cause. Which is, as he puts it, the recovery of the crown of our realm of England to us of right appertaining. He lets the Welsh know that he's their guide and he'll stand up for their rights once he gets the English crown on his head. He has to try and convince anyone else he possibly can to join his movement. Otherwise, it's going to be over before it's even begun. News of Henry's arrival reaches Richard III when he's in Nottingham in the Midlands. He claims to be thrilled. "It's a long-wished for-day," says one chronicler, who notes that Richard intends to "try him with ease over so contemptible affection." He wants he needs his realm to believe that all he has to do is go out and face this tuda chump and the guy'll roll over. Just as he did during Buckingham's Rebellion, he needs to believe that no one has the balls or the tactical smarts to stick one over on him. The Richard knows there are some risks. One of them is the Stanley family. Thomas Stanley, married to Margaret Beaufort, claims to be loyal. He's even sent his son, Lord Strang, as a hostage to guarantee his good behaviour. But the Stanley is a good at playing a game on both sides, and Thomas Stanley's brother William is much more amenable to the tuda cause. There's a curious scene in the Stanley dominated town of Shrewsbury when Henry Tudor marches out of Wales and into England. When he turns up on August the 17th, the baylif of the town lowers the port Colise. Says Tudor will only get in there by walking over his body. A short time later, word comes from Stanley HQ that Henry Tudor is to be allowed in. To avoid breaking his word, the baylif raises the port Colise, but then lies on the floor so that all the troops have to step over his body, quite literally, together. So little by little, Henry gains momentum, while Richard acts like he's got nothing to worry about. On Sunday, the 21st of August, he sweeps out of Leicester with an army at his back and heads in the direction of market Bosworth, where scouts say that Tudor army is camped. By nightfall, the armies are in sight of each other. They settle down to camp, planning to fight in the morning. You'd think that Richard, the battle-hardened, ruthless operative that he is, would be sleeping soundly, but he can barely sleep. Like any medieval battle, the play-by-play of the battle of Bosworth on August 22nd, 1485, is tricky to reliably reconstruct. Both sides have big numbers, and both are led by experienced men. The weapons are a mixture of old swords, pikes, bows, and new gunpowder cannon and handguns. When the lines first slam into each other, there's fierce fighting, which Henry and Richard watch from behind the lines. But Richard, an experienced fighter and a brave one, too, has no interest in hanging back. Henry Tudor is an untested 28-year-old lightweight who's never felt the danger of battle. Richard has been doing this all his life, so he makes the decision to charge into the action and hit Henry head-on. Inflamed with Ayer, he struck his horse with the spurs, says one Chronicle account. Richard thunders into the battle, with his crown mounted on his helmets. It's a brilliant attack. Richard heads straight for Henry's standard bearer, the guy carrying the flag that marks out Henry's position and signals to the other troops that he's still alive. The assault comes so hard and fast, Henry's standard bearer has knocked over and killed the standard fall. This could be the end for Henry. Few armies will carry on fighting if it looks like their leader is dead. But fortunately for him, there's a twist. Because lingering, a short distance away from the battlefield is another army, loyal to the Stanley family. Around 3,000 reserve troops are lingering, waiting to see which way the wind is blowing before they throw down. They throw down for Henry. And as those fresh Stanley troops pour onto the field, it's all over for the King's army. What's more, it's all over for the King. Richard is now fighting in the thick of the press and he's beset on all sides. Somehow or other, his helmet comes off, and with that vital protection lost, he's doomed. Richard is struck by glancing blows from several weapons which take chunks of his scalp and skull off. Then a huge blow lands from a halberd, a long-handled, bladed weapon which takes off a piece of his head like it's a boiled egg. In all likelihood, it kills him instantly. No King of England has died fighting in battle since Hastings in 1066, when King Harold went down, and with Richard's death, the battle of Bosworth, like Hastings, is over. Once the fighting has come to a stop, Richard is stripped of his armour and slung over the back of a horse. He's mutilated. At some point, someone stabs him so hard in the buttocks that the blade chips his pelvis. His bloodied body is taken to Leicester, and there it slung in a hastily dug grave. Richard said he wanted an end to war or life. He got the latter. God that is all merciful writes one chronicler, forgive him his misdeeds. Whether God's feeling merciful, only Richard now knows, but behind him at Bosworth, the relentless march of history continues. Henry Tudor clambers up a hillside and addresses survivors of the battle. He thanks those who fought for him, and receives the acclaim of his troops, who shout, "God save King Henry." By Reginald number, he'll be Henry the Seventh. By dynasty, he'll be the first of the Tudors. Richard III's battered crown is found among the spoil on the churned up ground of Bosworth Field. Lord Stanley, husband of Henry's mother Margaret Beaufort, reserves the right to place it on his stepson's head. After 331 years, the plantation at story is over, but another one, just as dramatic, and every bit as iconic, is about to begin. The Tudors are upon us, and that's for you to discover when we return for a brand new era of this is history. Well, there you have it. It's Oruvoire to the Plantagenets on a dynasty to die for, and I'm sure those of you listening have plenty of questions about them. For my last discussion starter with the Plantagenets, I want to ask my royal favourites, who's your favourite Plantagenet figure, and why? There's a lot of competition, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on who makes the cut. Look out for producer Al's post on Patreon at patreon.com/thisishistory. And I'll see you next season when I bring you The Tudors. Listen to The Happiness Lab with me, Dr. Laurie Santos, wherever you get your podcasts.