← THIS IS HISTORY — A DYNASTY TO DIE FOR
Loading summary
Transcript13 lines
- [00:00]
Dan Jones
Hello friends, and welcome to another episode of this Is History, A Dynasty to Die For. Before we launch into this episode, I need to warn you that it contains pretty much a full house of medieval mayhem, bloody battles, brutal sieges, questionable marriages, inveterate schemas, bad royal uncles, and a long winded foul mouthed gag about things you really shouldn't do in a farmyard. Don't say I didn't warn you. As ever, if you want to find out more about the history behind this episode, then do listen to this week's bonus episode where producer Al and I will be taking a trip down backstory lane by way of the fascinating Paston letters. And on Patreon this week, we're also giving away signed copies of my book, the Plantagenets on our medieval jokes thread. Patreon.com thisishistory for all of that. But first, let's go to Calais. After this short break,
- [01:01]
Ad Voice 1
your call has been forwarded to voicemail. Hi, this is Zoe Deutch and Nick Robinson.
- [01:07]
Ad Voice 2
Our brand new movie Voicemails for Isabel is all about those little moments that feel like the universe is looking out, feeling homesick. Then your sister calls, hearing that perfect song exactly when you need it.
- [01:19]
Dan Jones
Please stay.
- [01:22]
Ad Voice 2
Sometimes life rigs things in our favor, like learning about your new favorite rom com. Voicemails for Isabel Only on Netflix June 19th.
- [01:32]
Ad Voice 3
I'm Glen Washington, host of Snap Judgment, the award winning storytelling podcast from kqed. And every week Snap deals a new card. Like jumping on Rihanna's private plane or the accidental bank robber. Or even the man who was swallowed by a hippo. What? Pick a card, any card. Tap to listen. Now to Snap Judgment from KQED on Spotify.
- [02:03]
Dan Jones
Out of the great gothic cathedral of Notre Dame in the English town of Calais, there comes a wedding party. It's July 11, 1469 and the Plantagenet military and commercial compound in northwest France is buzzing. The wedding party leaving the cathedral is led by George Neville, Archbishop of York, the second most senior churchman in England. Close behind him is the beaming father of the bride, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, the most powerful non royal nobleman in the realm. Behind him, the newlyweds. And what a lovely young couple they are. The bride is 17 year old Isabel Neville, a pretty young woman with a high forehead and large heavy lidded eyes. She's the elder of Warwick's two daughters and since he has no sons, she's his heiress. Her husband as of about five minutes ago, is George, Duke of Clarence, the 19 year old brother of England's Yorkist King Edward IV. He's a fine figure of nobility too, with tousled brown hair, ruddy cheeks and a characteristic long Plantagenet nose. What's more, since King Edward has no sons yet, Clarence is heir presumptive to the throne. So, as all the revellers in the wedding party know, this is a sensational matchup. It's created a power couple who could convincingly claim the crown if anything should happen to the King. Or indeed, if nothing should happen to the King. Because back in England, rumour mongers have been spreading the word that Edward IV might not actually have as watertight a claim to the throne as he makes out. The gossips, encouraged by father of the bride Warwick, are putting it about that when Edward was born, his father and mother weren't married, that he's a bastard unfit to rule. Whether that's true and relevant, or more likely, untrue and irrelevant, Warwick doesn't much care. Because ever since Edward married his queen, Elizabeth Woodville in 1464, Warwick has been nursing a festering grievance against the King. Earlier this summer, it burst into the open. Warwick gave his secret backing to a series of rebellions in northern England. And now, right at the moment when the King asked him for help in suppressing the disorder, he's come here to Calais with Isabelle and Clarence to make a dynastic move. The wedding is the start of a full blown coup. Tomorrow, Warwick will fly flood England with copies of a political manifesto condemning Edward's government and calling for the removal of the Queen's Woodville relatives from power. Then the talk will be followed by action. As soon as this party is over, Warwick and his followers are going back to England. The way Warwick sees it, he put Edward on the throne back in 1461 and there's no reason why now he can't remove him from the throne and install someone more to his tastes. Plan A is for that to be the happy couple, George and Isabel. But there's a plan B too. History will remember Richard Neville as Warwick the Kingmaker. Plantagenet England is about to find out why. I'm dan jones and from sony music entertainment. This is history. Season 10 of a dynasty to die for. Episode 4 the kingmaker strikes back. One of the oldest pub jokes in the world is the story of Paddy the Goat. Well, it doesn't have to be Paddy. Let's call him something else. Bob the Goat. Dan the Goat. No, no, let's say Johnny the Goat. There are infinite versions of this joke, but essentially it goes like this. A stranger walks into a bar and sees a sad looking geezer there sitting nursing a pint. What's up? Says the stranger. Well, says the miserable guy, you see this pub? Built it with my bare hands. Wore my fingers to the bone, spent every penny I had on it. But do they call me Johnny the bar builder? Do they hell? Then he points to a shelf of books beside the bar. I wrote every single one of those, he says. Best selling novels, brilliant works of history, elegant works of political philosophy. Do they call me Johnny the book writer? No, they do not. Then he points to a row of certificates above the bar outlining his medical credentials. Not just first aid, but his right to practice all fields of medicine, from basic first aid to open heart surgery. Do they call me Johnny the lifesaver? There's a long pause in which the stranger feels more and more awkward. Then eventually the guy looks up to him and shakes his head sadly and says, but you F1 goat. Now, I'm sure many of you knew some version of that joke. Do share your own favourite jokes over on our Royal Favourites thread on Patreon. This week I'll be giving a signed book away to my favourite. But if you're wondering what it's got to do with the vagaries of 15th century politics, well, let me explain. Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, is unquestionably a singular man of his age. He's an open handed, generous lord who feeds thousands of ordinary people in his houses. He's a live player in the tangled politics of Northern England and the Midlands. As Captain of Calais, he drives English foreign policy at sea. And as a diplomat, he has a significant voice in the wider politics of Western Europe. But in history, you get one nickname and Warwick earns his from the antics he gets up to between 1460 and 61, when he helps put Edward IV on the throne, and 1469, 71, when which we're about to dive into in two bursts of scheming, plotting and fighting, he hands the English crown around like it's a pass the parcel. It's hard to think of anyone in medieval history who becomes quite so synonymous with the role of power broker. Hence, Warwick the Goat, Warwick the Kingmaker. With that in mind, let's get back to July 1469, when Warwick the Kingmaker has broken up with Edward, married his daughter to the King's brother and heir and is flooding England with hot political slander, decrying all and sundry and calling for a revolution. On July 16, five days after the big wedding, Warwick lands with hundreds of followers in Kent and sets up camp in Canterbury. Then he heads north, moving to the Midlands, where he aims to join up with a large band of northern rebels. These guys are complaining about royal government ostensibly led by a character called Robin of Redesdale, though in truth, the strings are being pulled by Warwick's agents. While all this is happening, Edward is monitoring events from Nottingham. He's charged two loyal earls, William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, and Humphrey Stafford, Earl of Devon, with taking military action to suppress the Northern Rebels. On July 25, they run into a group of rebels near Banbury, at a place known as Danes Moor or Edgecotmore. There's fierce fighting involving as many as 10,000 men, and within a few hours, the royal soldiers have been defeated. Pembroke is captured and taken to face Worick in the nearby town of Northampton. Worick has him beheaded. When news of this reaches Edward, he seems to be totally dumbfounded. For reasons best known to himself, he still hasn't accepted the magnitude of what's happening with his old pal Warwick, and events are running way ahead of his ability to process them. On July 29, four days after the Battle of Edgecott, Edward is traveling towards Northampton to try and figure out exactly what Warwick is up to. When he's on the road, he's confronted by Warwick's brother, Archbishop Neville. The Archbishop advises him that he'd better come along to Warwick Castle, where he'll be safe. It's a polite way of taking him into custody, and the reality is as stark as it is shocking. Less than a month ago, Edward was convinced that he'd managed to pour oil on Warwick's troubled waters, that they were pals again, just like in the old days, that he'd love bombed the kingmaker into acquiescence. Now he's locked up. It's incredible just how wrong he's been. From July 29, the king is a prisoner in Warwick's home castle, while across England, Warwick's goons run riot, hunting down men they consider traitors. In the second week of August, they manage to capture the Queen's father, Earl Rivers, and one of his sons, Sir John Woodville, who are trying to get to safe houses in Wales. The two men are executed. Less than a week later, the the Earl of Devon, the royal commander who escaped the Battle of Edgecot, is apprehended in Somerset. He too is beheaded. At blistering pace and with absolute ruthlessness, Warwick has seized control of England. He's lopped the heads off a significant number of his political rivals and he has the King under lock and key. He's the master of the realm, and it's up to him to decide how it should be governed. The Kingmaker is ascendant, but now he has power in his hands. Does he know what to do with it?
- [13:10]
Ad Voice 3
This episode is brought to you by Google Chrome. You think you know a browser, but Gemini and Chrome? That's new. It can help you with practically anything on the web, like restoring a vintage motorcycle from a 50 page restoration block. Or finally break down that long article you've had open for weeks. Gemini and Chrome is here for it, ready to make anything online make sense. There's no place like Chrome. Check responses Setup required. Compatibility and Availability Various 18
- [13:36]
Ad Voice 1
this episode is brought to you by Prime. What if you had one more chance with the one that got away? Sam, you Came Home Based on the best selling novel from Carly Fortune Every Year after follows childhood friends Sam and Percy as they reunite in the dreamy, nostalgic lakeside town of Barry's Bay. Love can be hard to find, so if you're lucky enough to find that person, never let go A second chance at first love. Every Year after now streaming only on Prime.
- [14:07]
Dan Jones
Mayhem has erupted in London. Mobs run through the streets, picking fights with easy prey. The capital turns a shade of amber as looters ransack shops throughout the capital, there are running battles between the city authorities and violent rioters. It's only been a few weeks since Warwick took King Edward captive, but already the Kingmaker seems to have lost control of the realm's capital. And it's not just London either. Across England, public order is dissolving from East Anglia to the Cotswolds, landowners feuds that have been kept in check up until now flare up. Private armies show at private homes and lay siege to them. At Caister Castle in Norfolk, there's a particularly nasty clash. The castle is owned by the Paston family, but the Duke of Norfolk has long had his eye on it. With the king in a cell, the Duke figures all bets are off. He rolls up to Caistor Castle with hundreds of armed men, surrounds it and tries to starve the Pastons out. Gunfire and crossbow shots fly back and forth. A letter survives from Margaret Paston, who is monitoring the siege from a nearby town, vividly describing the action. Some of the family's loyal servants are dead, she writes, and divers are the greatly hurt. The Duke has the greatest multitude of people outside the castle, and they purpose them to make a great assault with their great multitude of guns and with other shot and ordinance. The Duke is especially confident, Margaret claims, because he has the backing of George, Duke of Clarence, Edward's brother, heir to the throne, and as of recently, stooge of Warwick, the kingmaker. The whole thing is an unholy mess. Desperation hums from the page of Margaret Paston's letter. But old Mar Paston is far from the only person in England tearing their hair out. Because since Warwick, with Clarence in his back pocket, grabbed control of the country, everything's been going to hell. What's going on? Well, it would be easy to say that worick is experiencing the consequences of his own actions. He wanted to be in charge and here he is in charge. And guess what? It's not as easy as it looks. It would be equally easy to point the finger at George, Duke of Clarence, his willing sock puppet. Clarence may be handsome with his regal features and fine head of hair, but he's weak willed, easily swayed, disloyal and not very bright. Shakespeare will call him false, fleeting, perjured Clarence, you and I might say he's a congenital shitbird. Be that as it may, there's actually a deeper problem with the King in prison at Warwick's pleasure, which goes way beyond personality defects and political competence. It's a matter of fundamental principles. England's political system and its stability is founded on having a legitimate king in active charge. Lock up the king and you shatter the whole basis for normality. The rules simply don't work. It's every man for himself and may the strongest prosper. That's a recipe for disaster which Warwick, puffed up on his own importance, has to learn the hard way. Within six weeks of Edward being imprisoned, Warwick has realised that he simply can't rule England without a functioning king. Which leaves him a depose Edward and install Clarence or let Edward out of prison and try once again to control him. Hoping that this is a bit easier now that a whole bunch of Edward's favourites are dead, Warwick goes for the latter. On September 12, Edward is out of jail and has summoned all the loyal members of his royal council to meet him so they can make a formal entry to London and show that he's back in the hot seat. In mid October, he makes a grand entrance to the capital, which has calmed down now that news has got around that Daddy's coming home. Warwick's grand coup has fizzled out. Amazingly, Warwick isn't punished, nor is Clarence. It seems like as a condition of letting Edward out of prison, they've cut a deal where they won't suffer any serious retribution. In fact, on the surface, Edward seems to be making out like nothing ever happened. Dealing cheerfully with with the guys who just banged him up. Indeed, the Neville family actually gets rewarded for Warwick's treachery. Warwick's nephew is betrothed to Edward's eldest daughter, Elizabeth of York. A new settlement is reached in the north, where the old Lancastrian affiliated Percy family are restored to their noble titles. But in return, the Nevilles get a huge chunk of land in the South. Edward is generous, almost to a fault, but you'd think Warwick, faced with a resumption of the Love Bombing campaign, might understand that he's the luckiest POS to ever walk God's green earth and act accordingly. In times gone by, a noble who'd gone as rogue as Warwick could expect to end up looking like a platter of freshly chopped dog meat. Just ask Simon de Montfort, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, Archbishop Screw, or a whole host of other misguided magnates who grasped at power and ended their days with their heads under their arms or wearing their soft, dangly bits as a goatee. Let offs like Warwick's simply don't happen. Any sane man would recognise that and give thanks to God and the King for mercy. But if you think that's how Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, works, you don't know him at all. The King's kiss of peace is barely dry on Warwick's forehead before the kingmaker's trigger finger is itchy all over again. Another Groundhog Day is beckoning.
- [20:42]
Ad Voice 1
This episode is brought to you by Redfin. You're listening to a podcast, which means you're probably multitasking, maybe even scrolling home listings on Redfin, saving homes without expecting to get them. But Redfin isn't just built for endless browsing. It's built to help you find and own a home with agents who close twice as many deals. When you find the one, you've got a real shot at getting it. Get started@redfin.com, own the dream.
- [21:12]
Dan Jones
It's spring, 1470, and King Edward is marching through the Midlands to tackle a spate of mass disorder. In Lincolnshire, two local lords have been quarreling violently. The row has escalated into general violence, and Edward has come to crack skulls and show everyone who's boss. After a few days of pursuit, he's got the troublemakers in his sights. And now, on the afternoon of Monday 12th March, he's about to teach them a lesson. At a field near the town of Empingham, he lets his troops off the leash and they charge at the rabble of rioters. The rioters don't put up much of a resistance, losing their battle formation and running away so fast they rip off their heavy outer clothes in their panic. The Battle of Loose Coat Field, as it's known, is hardly a battle at all. Yet during the brief moments that the rebels put up a stand, the royal troops hear them yelling war cries that make the blood run cold. They've been shouting, a Clarence. A Clarence and a Warwick. A Warwick. This was supposed to be a spot of localized bother, but from the sound of things, the rebels reckon they're connected to the two men who gave Edward such a nightmare in 1469. Warwick the Kingmaker and Edward's brother, George, Duke of Clarence. Surely there's some mistake? Well, you'd hope so. But in fact, when some of the ringleaders captured at Loosecote Field are interrogated, they admit quite freely that Warwick and Clarence are partners and chief provokers in their mischief. It beggars belief. Despite Edward pardoning Warwick and Clarence for rising up in arms, slaughtering his relatives and putting him in prison, this pair of chancers have merrily carried on scheming against him. There's pushing your luck and then there's taking the mickey. What are Warwick and Clarence thinking? Well, in Clarence's case, that's a pretty straightforward one. Warwick has sold him the line that he could be king in his brother's place and Clarence has succumbed to pure greed. As for Warwick, well, his inability to appreciate the bigger picture is staggering. After his first rebellion, he might have felt cheerful to have got away with a list of treacherous crimes as long as your arm. Instead, he's been stewing because some estates in South Wales that belong to the Earl of Pembroke who he executed, have been granted to someone else, in this case the King's youngest brother, Richard. He's also got the raging hump because in the north of England the power of the Percy family has been boosted at the expense of the Nevilles. That he's fortunate to be alive to see all this doesn't seem to cross his mind. At the first hint of unrest in the kingdom, Warwick has once again turned rebel and dragged Clarence along with him. But now, at long last, Warwick has pushed Edward IV as far as the King will go after Loosecote Field. When it becomes clear that Warwick and Clarence have been plotting once more, Edward goes after them with his army trying to hunt them down in northern England. He pursues them up north and then back down south, marching hundreds of miles from Yorkshire to Devon in a three week manhunt. Sadly for Edward, but very happily for the wretched Warwick And Clarence. They manage to stay a step ahead of him. By mid April, they've scuttled out of England and are once more heading for Warwick's favourite hidey hole at Calais. But this time, Calais won't have them. The deputy captain is a guy called Lord Wenlock, a long time Warwick ally. But he won't open the gates and sends a message telling Warwick that if he did let him and Clarence in, they could expect to be surrounded by English and Burgundian troops within days. Which means that Worick has to come up with another plan, stat. It's clear enough that he's making this up. As he goes along, his daughter and Clarence's wife Isabel comes along with him once more. Only this time she's heavily pregnant and has to give birth aboard a ship. The conditions are so unsanitary that the child dies. So here lies the question. If they can't go to Calais, where can Warwick and his motley little crew go? Well, the answer to that is to head towards the one guy who can be guaranteed to take pleasure in seeing the King of England on the ropes. That's Louis xi, King of France. In early May, Warwick brings his fleet of ships to the mouth of the River Seine, from which it's a few days sailing or riding upriver to the French capital of Paris. On June 22, a meeting is arranged at Angers, attended by both Warwick and King Louis. There, Warwick rolls the dice one more time. He asks for French aid in invading England, with the explicit aim of dethroning King Edward. If Louis helps him do that, Warwick promises to put a man on the English throne who will be far more to Louis liking, someone who'll be entirely biddable and reliably pro French. Louis likes the idea, and so does one other person at the meeting who represents the king that Warwick and Louis have in mind. This person has been waiting for their moment to get one over on Edward for a long time. And now the moment's here. It's almost too exciting for words. So who is that person? Not George, Duke of Clarence, who at this moment remains the heir to the Yorkist throne. Not his wife Isabel, and not the archbishop brother who's been Warwick's partner in crime for the past decade. No, the person at the meeting whose eyes light up once the talk of deposing Edward begins, is someone far wilier, more resilient and experienced than anyone we've met in our story so far. It's Margaret of Anjou, exiled Lancastrian Queen of England, and the Yorkist's greatest enemy. For nearly 10 years, she's been biding her time, trusting that a day like today would eventually come. And here it is. At Angers, Margaret reconciles with Warwick, letting bygones be bygones and agreeing that there's one king of England who could work out perfectly for both of them. They decide, with Louis XI's backing, to sail to England and do everything they can to replace Edward with none other than old Henry VI to find out if they succeed. Come back next time for another episode of this is History. Well, there she is, and I'm going to repeat myself. Margaret of Anjou. There's a reason she's called the she Wolf of France. Or should I say England? Either way, you haven't seen the last of her. So do listen to her return on next week's episode. But in the meantime, to my royal favorites, tell me if you can top my goat joke. Hit patreon.com thisishistory to make your submission. The one that makes me belly laugh will get a signed copy of my book, the Plantagenets, in its fine new limited edition format, courtesy of Millennia Books.
- [29:16]
Ad Voice 4
Toxic relationships suck, including the one you're in with your cleaning products. Break up with harsh chemicals and synthetic fragrances and switch to Clear Hive Products, a company committed to providing cleaning products and room sprays without toxic ingredients. You can finally tell your therapist you're in a healthy relationship. Use Code Spotify at checkout for 20% off.