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- [00:01]
Dan Jones
Friends, I can hardly believe I'm saying this, but it's time for the finale of season nine of this Is A Dynasty to Die For. If you've been here from the beginning, salute. It's been quite the ride. If you're joining us for the first time. Well, there's a few things you need to catch up on. 119 episodes of Plantagenet Mayhem, to be precise. Fortunately, it's all in our archive and if you sign up as a royal favourite on Patreon, you can you get access to those ad free and fully bingeable. And if you're a royal favourite, I've got some more good news. You can now order signed special editions of my books, the Plantagenet and the Hollow Crown via Millennia Books. Purchase links are in the show notes and head to our Patreon for a code that'll get you a 10% discount on the COVID price. For now, though, it's time to get back to the chaos of the 15th century, where the wars of the Roses are on, the wheel of fortune is spinning faster than my peloton bike's pedals and someone is going to end this episode with their head on a spike. Who? Well, I'm about to tell you after this short break. You know what? You got to feel sorry for King Henry vi because he wouldn't be anybody's personality hire and he was just as bad at HR as at kingship. He's the guy who forced all his warring nobles to hold hands in the Love Day Parade. If only Plantagenet England had indeed sponsored jobs. With Indeed, you can spend less time searching and more time actually interviewing candidates who check all the right boxes. Less stress, less time, more results when you need the right person to cut through the chaos. This is a job for Indeed sponsored jobs and listeners of my show will get a $75 sponsored job credit to help get your job the premium status it deserves. Indeed.com thisishistory just go to Indeed.com thishi this is history right now and support our show by saying you heard about Indeed on this podcast. Indeed.comthisishistory Terms and conditions apply. Need a hiring hero? This is a job for Indeed Sponsored Jobs. Ever wondered what it feels like to be a gladiator facing a roaring crowd and potential death in the coliseum? Find out on the Ancients Podcast from History Hit twice a week. Join me, Tristan Hughes, as I hear exciting new research about people living thousands of years ago, from the Babylonians to the Celts to the Romans, and visit the ancient sites which reveal who and just how amazing our distant ancestors were. That's the ancients from history hit. The gates of Harlech Castle in North Wales swing open to admit the messenger. Its November 1460 and he's ridden hard through the early winter's storms all the way from the south of England to bring this note. He hands the letter to the men guarding the gate who invite him to come inside and warm his bones. But the messenger demures. It's been a long ride here. Now he has a long ride home. The gatekeepers shrugged and watch as the messenger wheels and heads off again into the gloomy countryside. One of them takes the letter into the castle to deliver it to its addressee, Margaret of Anjou. Margaret is Queen of Plantagenet, England, but only just. In the last year, the wheel of fortune has lurched. Just a few months ago she was riding high, ruling the country from Coventry in the name of her hopeless husband, Henry VI, the 39 year old Lancastrian king. Their enemies, Richard, Duke of York and his pals, were scattered, exiled from the realm. But now, less than six months later, everything has changed. Margaret and her seven year old son, Prince Edward are disinherited. Her allies were slaughtered by York's allies at the Battle of Northampton. And then Richard himself struck a deal with Parliament making him the next king. So now Richard, Duke of York, is back on top, ruling the realm with Henry vi, more or less his prisoner. Margaret is brooding on all this when the letter is brought to her chamber. She inspects it carefully, then breaks the seal, opens it and reads. The letter is from her husband. He greets her, says he misses her and begs her to leave North Wales and come to London, bringing their son with her. You know how it is. Long distance relationships are never easy. Margaret finishes the letter and gives a scornful snort, crumples it up and throws it into the fire. You have to get up earlier in the morning than that to fool this queen. Before she and Henry were separated, she told him that if he wanted to write to her, they would use a code word. If it was in his letters, she would take them seriously. Otherwise send to junk mail and block. This letter lacked the code word, so she won't be taking little Edward anywhere near London. All the same, Margaret realizes that that you can't just sit in Harlech Castle forever. Sooner or later it won't just be notes the Yorkists send, but troops. So in late November, she takes Edward and her servants down to Harlech's Watergate and boards a ship bound for Scotland. There she takes refuge with Mary of Gelders, Regent of the nine year old Scottish King James iii. The two women have plenty to talk about, but Margaret only has one big question on her mind. How is she going to get the troops together to ride back into England and take her revenge? I'm dan jones and from sony music entertainment. This is history season 9 of a dynasty to die for. Episode 12 rise of the yorks. If you thought public discourse was uncivil in the age of the Internet, well, you're right. People really get on each other's cases online. And public figures, or even medieval historians routinely get it in the neck. Only the other day, a complete stranger wrote to me with a long note castigating me for being too scruffy for history, not understanding that all my tweed jackets with elbow patches and professorial dicky bows are in the dry cleaner. But I think it's worth remembering that flame wars were just as, well, flaming back in the Middle Ages, maybe even more so. And when our medieval forebears were rage baited, they really knew how to let fly. Case in point, Margaret of Anjou in 1460. She really feels like she's been done over by the Yorkists and she wants everyone to know it. So once she set up camp in Scotland in early December, she writes an open letter in the name of her son, Prince Edward, addressed to the citizens of London. In it, she absolutely drags Richard, Duke of York, calling him a horrible and false forsworn traitor, a mortal enemy to my lord, to my lady and to us. She adds that York has an untrue pretensed claim to the crown. And she finishes it by adding that York's mama is so ugly that when they laid her on the plague cart, the rats ran away screaming. Well, maybe not that last bit. But Margaret doesn't hold back and it's very clear that she hasn't given up. By the way, if you want to have a bit of end of season fun and engage in a medieval roast war, producer Al is going to start a new medieval themed insults bank on Patreon, royal favourites. The floor is open. Back in the 15th century. Meanwhile, Margaret is letting loose on York. What's more, she reckons she has the stones to back it up. Because Margaret and little Prince Edward weren't the only ones feeling very sore. After the Battle of Northampton, England's nobles are out for each other. In the north of England, the Percy family, allies of the Queen, are on the rampage. They're looking to avenge their kinsman, Thomas Percy. Lord Egremont who was slaughtered in the battle. They're riding around raising hell, burning estates of the Neville family, who were the Yorkists tightest allies. Down south, the Beaufort family are also on the warpath. And in Wales, the King's half brother, Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, is making trouble too. Margaret figures that there are enough angry men in England that if they all get together they can kick York and his cronies out of power for what would be the third time. So she writes to them all and suggests they muster in the east coast town of Kingston upon Hull, combine their armies and give the Yorks the hiding they so rich deserve. This has the makings of a plan, but it's not a secret one. So it doesn't take long for alarm bells to start ringing. In Yorkist hq, Richard, Duke of York, and his most senior Neville ally, the Earl of Salisbury, swing into action. They march north to try and head off this rebellion before it gets going. York's strapping great strongman of a son, 18 year old Edward, Earl of March, heads to Wales to deal with Jasper Tudor. It looks like another great showdown is on. Christmas is coming, but peace and goodwill towards all men is rather hard to come by. By December 21st, Richard, Duke of York, has arrived in Yorkshire, where he has plenty of military bases. He heads to Sandal Castle, West Yorkshire. This is a pretty secure stronghold with huge walls and a great keep on top of a mound. What it doesn't have is a great garrison of troops inside or much by way of supplies. Given the speed with which York has had to hightail it up to Yorkshire, there hasn't been much time for him to raise the army he'd have liked or lay down the food stores to sustain a protracted military campaign. But that can all be solved. All he has to do is sit tight and wait for reinforcements to arrive, provided as usual by the Neville family. So for a week, York hunkers down in Sandal Castle and waits. Christmas comes and goes. He monitors the news from outside the castle walls, which is very much a mixed bag. The city of York itself is in the command of royal forces. The that's bad. Pontefract Castle is also held by the enemy. That's also bad. The Queen has more troops in the area than he does and the southern armies of the Beauforts have arrived. That's bad too. So maybe not so much a mixed bag as a bag of fertiliser grade horseshit. Bags or no bags, York has to keep the men in Sandal Castle going. So he sends out regular foraging parties to fetch food from the surrounding area. It's not the easiest task in the dead of winter, and it's made all the harder by the presence of hostile troops all over the countryside. On December 30, one of York's foraging parties comes under attack from men loyal to the Duke of Somerset, and York decides he's had enough. He rides out of Sandal Castle accompanied by the Earl of Salisbury and York's own second son, Edmund, Earl of Rutland. They have a few dozen men with them, tops, and it's a great historical mystery as to why York feels he needs to leave the safety of his castle. Probably he's looking to relocate rather than pick a fight. But a fight is what he gets. He's barely out of the castle when he's ambushed near Wakefield by some of his greatest enemies, Henry Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, and Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and a lot of Lancastrian soldiers. A later chronicler writes that York is environed on every side like a fish in a net. There's a skirmish with heavy fighting that lasts for about an hour. York is heavily outnumbered and realizes this is going to be ugly. He tells his son Edmund to run for his life and the 17 year old charges off towards Wakefield Bridge, trying to get to a church where he can seek sanctuary. He never makes it. On the bridge, young Edmund is cut off by a nobleman called Lord Clifford. Clifford is only a few years older and he has major beef with the Yorkists because his dad was killed at the Battle of St Albans. That's exactly what he reminds Edmund of. When he catches him on Wakefield Bridge, he curses him, steps forward and stabs the lad through the heart. Back at the battle, things are not going any better for York. The fighting is raging on, but eventually his men are overwhelmed and York is captured. He's stripped of his armor and bound and a paper crown is placed on his head. Then the Duke of York, self appointed heir to the throne and long standing agitator against Henry Henry VI's rule, is paraded before the assembled enemy troops before being roughly beheaded. The Earl of Salisbury, head of the Neville clan, manages to flee the battle, but he doesn't get very far. The next day he's captured and brought to Pontefract Castle where he too has his head cut off. One of his sons, Thomas Neville, is also taken and killed. Not long after, in the city of York, four heads are taken to the Mickle Gate, one of the fortified gates that leads into the walled city. They're impaled on spikes and so Everyone who leaves or enters the gate is watched by the cold, dead eyes of the Earl of Salisbury, Thomas Neville, Edmund, Earl of Rutland, and Richard, Duke of York. The news is taken to Scotland, to Queen Margaret. She must be absolutely delighted. Revenge is hers. Her arch enemy is dead. But Margaret isn't stupid. She will know as well as anyone that the war isn't over yet. In fact, it's barely even begun.
- [15:46]
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- [16:18]
Dan Jones
The wait is over. Tron Ares now streaming on Disney plus. We are looking for something, something you've discovered. Give me something to believe and some of us will stop at nothing to get it ready. The countdown is complete. There's no going back. Our directive is clear. Hang on. Tron Aries now streaming on Disney Plus. Rated PG 13. One month after York's assassination, 18 year old Edward, Earl of March, gathers with his advisors at dawn in a camp of war in the borderlands between England and Wales. It's February 3, 1461, the coldest time of year. Their breath mists in the air as they discuss the tactics for the violence they know is going to come that day. The information they have is daunting. Just out of sight waits a large military force commanded by the King's Welsh French half brother, Jasper Tudor, along with his dad, the old Lothario, Owen Tudor. These two likely lads have been around for years, and since the wars broke out, they've had Wales in uproar of the sort that hasn't been known for half a century, since Oan Glyndur was in his pomp. Since Christmas, they've been raising hell in West Wales, aided with troops brought over from Brittany, France and Ireland. Now they're coming east to force their path into England and join up with the Queen's loyal troops who killed Edward's dad, the Duke of York, and stuck his head on a spike. It's Edward's job to stop them, and it's fair to say that he is highly motivated to do it. The trouble is, motivation isn't everything in war. Everyone knows that when There's a battle coming. You also need the secret source known as God's approval. And how do you know if you've got that until you're standing drenched in your enemy's blood or lying in your own? As Edward and his advisors chew all this over, they get an unexpected answer. They hear a gasp go up from their men in the sky. The winter sun is just struggling over the horizon. Except, well, it's not. Rather than one sun rising, there are three all coming up together. Edward and his men watch, captivated, as the three suns rise, then merge together, forming one blazing beacon. They've never seen anything like it. Today we'd call it a parhelion, a phenomenon caused when sunlight refracts through ice crystals in high altitude clouds. Then again, today, we are A obsessed with having a scientific answer for everything, and B not about to fight a battle with life, limb and family dignity at stake. On February 3, Edward and his advisors don't whip out their phones and ask Chatgpt what that they agree that this is almost certainly a divine symbol. The sun is, as they would put it, in splendor. It can only mean that they are tied on certainties to win the fight ahead. Shortly afterwards, Edward leads his troops into combat against Jasper and Owen Tudor's men. The clash, known as the Battle of Mortimer's Cross, is pretty poorly documented historically and details are sketchy, but the result is beyond any doubt. Edward's troops give the Welsh, French and Breton lads a real hiding. Jasper Tudor and one of his key allies, the Earl of Wiltshire, flee the battlefield and escape. Others aren't so lucky. Nine of the Tudor captains are taken prisoner on the battlefield. Among them is Jasper's dad, Owen Tudor. Edward orders that they're all taken to the nearby town of Hereford. And given the grisly events that befell Edward's dad and brother in Yorkshire, there's no doubt that the block is going to get used. Owen Tudor seems to think he's going to get special treatment, but the hope drains away from him when he sees the axe and the block. His armor is stripped from him and he's led before the townsfolk of Hereford. Wearing a red doublet, a snug fitting coat that's shaped to his body, he begs their pardon and grace. Then the jeweled collar around his neck is ripped away and he's brought for his turn at the block. According to one chronicler, as Owen Tudor is made to kneel down, he comes out with some pithy last words in tribute to the high point of his life. Shacking up with royalty. That head shall lie on the stock that was wont to lie on Queen Catherine's lap, he says. Then he stretches out his neck and it's all over. Owen Tudor's head is stuck up on the highest point of the Market Cross in Hereford. When the crowd has dispersed, a woman is seen tenderly washing the blood from its face, combing the hair and setting candles around the cross. It's likely the mother of a bastard son Owen has had named David. Even in death, this guy was a charmer. But charm is neither here nor there in England. Now, as Owen is enshrined in Hereford market square, a showdown is looming. The latest round of slaughter at the battles of Wakefield and Mortimer's Cross has created a whole fresh round of hatreds and blood feuds. There's no chance of a love day sorting out the unholy mess of that's arisen. Under the tepid kingship of Henry vi, the only way out of the war seems to be more war. And that's exactly what comes next. Two weeks after the Battle of Mortimer's Cross, Queen Margaret comes south with the earls who are victorious over Richard, Duke of York. They rampage through the country, bearing down on London and scaring the bejesus out of the citizens. They look like a real army, every man now wearing the badge of seven year old Prince Edward. And they're hell bent on getting the capital city back. In charge of London is the tough nut Yorkist Ultra Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick. Now the most senior man in his family since his dad Salisbury was killed at Wakefield, he has to stop the Queen's Lancastrian army by any means possible. So he decides to roll the dice. He marches out of London with an army of his own and he brings with him the Yorkist trump card, King Henry vi. Remember, Henry has essentially been held captive since Richard, Duke of York disinherited the King's wife and heir. Warwick is hoping that his presence on the Yorkist side will make the Queen's troops wary of fighting against an anointed King. No such luck. On February 17, the two armies meet at St Albans, where all the trouble started back in 1455. That battle was a roaring great triumph for the Yorkists, but the return fixture is a humiliation. The Queen's army is huge and the troops have no problem fighting against Warwick, king or no king. For five hours, battle rages in the streets of St Albans until the numbers in the Queen's army tell and the Yorkists scatter, with their enemies giving chase and running Stragglers through with lances, the runaways leave behind anything they can't carry, and that includes their royal mascot, Henry vi. When the Queen's men find him, Henry is sitting under a tree, laughing and singing to himself as the northern warriors his wife and her allies have raised ransack the town, desecrate the abbey and rob anything they can lay their hands on. Once more, the King changes hands like a rag doll. So now the advantage is back with the Queen and the Lancastrians. But this really isn't edifying. As one contemporary writes, every battle produces a winner, but at the same time, things get worse for everyone. Whoever conquers the crown of England loses, which is a very great pity. They say the one thing England is crying out for is a real functioning king who can get a grip on the chaos. But it's really not clear where one of those is going to come from. Until that changes, England appears destined to tear itself apart.
- [25:46]
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- [26:14]
Dan Jones
the posters are going up all over London, by every water fountain, on every church door, everywhere. It's March 2, 1461, a couple of weeks since the Yorkists were trounced at the Second Battle of St. Albans and Henry Village was snatched back by the Queen and the Lancastrians. In theory, Queen Margaret has the government of the realm in her hands again. But you wouldn't know it from these posters. They tell another story altogether. They present an argument condemning useless old King Henry VI and asserting the Yorkist claim to the throne. Of course, the Yorkist claimant to the throne has been dead for the some time. Richard, Duke of York's head in its paper crown has been rotting above the Micklegate in the city of York for months. But now, say the posters, that claim has passed to someone else. His eldest son, the 18 year old Edward, Earl of March. It's Edward's name that's trumpeted on these propaganda sheets which are decorated with his badge, a white rose. And he's not just presented as the heir to the crown. The argument is that since forces loyal to Henry VI killed Richard, Duke of York so brutally at Wakefield, they've broken the agreement that said the Yorkists had to wait until Henry died to take power. So all bets are off. Edward say the posters, is completely within his rights to seize the crown and he can do it right now. You might think it's bold to be putting up posters like this in London, given Queen Margaret's tendency to make savage and unrelenting war on anyone who casts a defiant eye in her direction, or indeed that of her son and his right to the crown. But here's the thing. Margaret's not in London. Why not? Well, the savage behavior of the northern troops she brought to the Second Battle of St Albans has the whole of southern England shook. When the Queen headed for the capital city after St Albans, she was told in no uncertain terms that she and her army would not be welcome. The gates would be shut up against them. So right now, rather than trying to besiege her own capital city, she's up north and it's Edward, Earl of March and his right hand man, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, who ruled the roost in the south. Which means it's quite safe to put up propaganda posters advertising Edward's claim to the throne. Of course, what's not so easy is actually enforcing that claim. But Edward, who saw those three suns rising last time he marched into battle, is confident that God is going to see him right. On March 4, he holds a series of ceremonies which stop just short of a coronation. He parades to the legal courts at the palace of Westminster and swears a holy oath to uphold the law. Then he makes offerings at the shrine of his namesake, Edward the Confessor, at Westminster Abbey. From this point, there's no going back. He's going to become King or die trying. Over the next few weeks, the whole of England arms itself for what looks like it'll be the final showdown. In the North, Queen Margaret and the Percy family gather thousands of armed retainers. In the South, Edward and Warwick do likewise. At the end of the month, Edward and Warwick mobilise. They're going to take the fight to the Queen and her allies. On March 29, Palm Sunday, Edward and Warwick bring their thousands of men to the fields near a village called Towton in North Yorkshire. It's a bitterly cold weekend. There's snow swirling in the air. The armies have camped overnight, and when morning comes, the snow is more or less a blizzard. The King, who's in the field, doesn't mind it. That's young Edward. He's leading his army, while Henry VI and Queen Margaret keep their distance in the city of York. Edward hasn't seen any suns in splendour this morning. But he has another natural advantage. The blizzard is blowing from behind his army towards the Lancastrian one. So when his longbowmen start unleashing their arrows, they will have the advantage of range. That's exactly what happens. Around 9 o' clock in the morning, the order to start fighting is given. The Yorkists start shooting, and shortly after, the Duke of Somerset, on the Lancastrian side, commands his men to advance. It doesn't take long for the vast lines to clash, and when they do, it's carnage. There are as many as 30,000 men in the field of Towton. It's by far the biggest battle that's been fought on English soil in living memory, perhaps ever. And there are blood feuds everywhere you look. Edward has ordered that enemy lords should be killed, not captured, so there's no quarter given. It's a monstrous butchery of arrows, axes, swords and cudgels. Skeletons retrieved much later from the battlefield have atrocious wounds, heads split in half and bones shattered. As the fighting goes on, it turns out that God is still smiling on Edward, Earl of March. The battle lines wheel and lurch so that the Lancastrians end up fighting with their backs to a waterway called Cock Bec. They get pressed against this until they can't stand anymore and men start trying to wade and swim for safety. So many die as they try to get away that the beck is dammed up with corpses and people are scrambling away over what they call the Bridge of Bodies. By mid afternoon, it's clear that the Yorkists have won and they're pursuing Lancastrian soldiers, chopping them down in a rout. The Lancastrian commanders abandon their army. Some, like Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, are killed. Others, like the Duke of Somerset, make it back to York. There, Somerset has to break the bad news to Queen Margaret. They've lost, and it's a devastating defeat from which there is no military comeback. It's said 18,000 men have lost their lives. There's nothing to do now but get out of the country. So the Queen, with Henry vi, Prince Edward Somerset, Jasper Tudor and a handful of other allies, scarper as fast as they can, heading to Scotland. Behind them, victory. And the kingdom belongs to Edward, Earl of March. But what kind of a kingdom is it? On June 26, Edward, now 19, holds a proper coronation in London, where he's crowned King Edward iv, the first Yorkist King of Plantagenet, England. But it's a battered, ruined realm that he holds. One churchman writes in the aftermath of Towton, Alas, we are a race deserving of pity even from the French. That's really saying something. But when you take stock of everything that's happened in Henry VI's dismal reign, it's hard to disagree. Yes, Edward and the Yorkists are victorious. England has a new king to replace the old fool Henry. It has a new power behind the throne, the Earl of Warwick, or as he becomes known, Warwick the Kingmaker. But it still has an old king on the run and a queen who will stop at nothing to take her revenge. Find out how she plans to get it when we return in a few weeks for the final season of our Plantagenet drama A Dynasty to Die For. Well, there you go. An Italian ambassador charged with reporting on Towton once wrote that he felt like one going to the torture every time he had to write about English affairs. And after that season, I kind of know how he feels. But like any addict you know I'll be back for one more hit. Season 10 will take our story to its climax, and after that, whisper it. But we might just be out of the Plantagenets and onto the Tudors before we get there, though. We have plenty more historical hijinks for you. Next week is our mailbag Q and A episode and then we get to our all new miniseries, History's Greatest Fails, which I co host with the great Elizabeth Day. Be sure to send us your voice notes on your own favourite Fails via Patreon and we'll try to include as many as we can in our bonus episode. Meanwhile, if you become a royal favourite on patreon.com thisishistory you can join in with our medieval travel thread and answer this week's burning question, which is what's your favourite medieval insult? Get creative and I'll see you next week.
- [36:05]
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