But what if the cliches are wrong?

In the gripping second episode of Queen Jane: The Extraordinary Life of Lady Jane Grey, Professor Suzannah Lipscomb goes in search of the truth about the young Tudor claimant who held the throne for less than two weeks. Peeling back the romanticised layers of myth, Suzannah reveals a woman of formidable intellect, startling agency, and the kind of “chutzpah” that history has spent centuries trying to erase.

Sign up to watch

Power bought at the altar

On 25 May 1553, Durham House in London hosted a triple wedding orchestrated by the Duke of Northumberland. The centrepiece was the union of Lady Jane Grey and Lord Guildford Dudley. This was power bought at the altar – a desperate, strategic binding of England’s Protestant elite as the young King Edward VI lay dying.

Accounts suggest Jane was beaten into submission by her parents to accept the match. Yet, even as she was being used as a pawn, the dying King was busy with a pen, subverting centuries of tradition. Edward’s ‘Device for the Succession’ bypassed his Catholic half-sister, Mary, and placed the crown directly on Jane’s head.

Edward VI’s ‘Device for the Succession’

Image Credit: Inner Temple Legal Library / History Hit

The rise of a rebel queen

The moment of transformation occurred on 9 July 1553. Summoned to Syon House, Jane was met by the senior noblemen of the realm, who, kneeling before the teenager, delivered shattering news: King Edward was dead, and she was now Queen of England.

In Episode Two, Suzannah captures the visceral shock of this moment. Jane did not reach for the crown; instead, she collapsed in a torrent of weeping grief. But as she composed herself in London, a second drama was unfolding in East Anglia. As Professor Lipscomb notes, “the vast majority of the population knew who they thought should be next in line to the throne, and it was not Lady Jane Grey”.

The episode tracks the unexpected rise of Mary Tudor, who transformed almost overnight into a formidable rebel leader. Suzannah visits the Inner Temple Library to examine an extraordinary document dated 9th July 1553 – the very day Jane learned she was Queen. Signed decisively ‘Mary the Queen’ and sent before Jane was even proclaimed Queen in London, the letter is a masterclass in strategic foresight. With blank spaces left for names, it was clearly one of many copies prepared to demand allegiance from the nation’s elite. As Suzannah observes, “What I think is fascinating about this is it shows how quick Mary is to act”. 

Document showing Mary proclaiming ‘Mary the Queen’, with portrait of Queen Mary I of England (by Antonis Mor, 1554) overlaid.

Image Credit: Document: Inner Temple Library. Portrait: by Antonis Mor / Museo del Prado. Both Public Domain

Suzannah is joined by Professor Anna Whitelock at Framlingham Castle to explore how Mary evolved from a political “outlier” into a commander on a war footing. “If you think about the great lengths that Henry VIII had gone to, to avoid this moment – he needed a male heir… what’s really interesting is over these days in July, gender wasn’t an issue” says Anna.

While the Privy Council dismissed Mary as a “country bumpkin,” she was busy playing her trump card: legitimacy. Thousands flocked to her banner, moved by the long shadow of her father, Henry VIII.

Jane the Queen: A show of authority

By now, Jane had spent three days in the Tower of London, deep in preparations for her coronation. Despite her youth, Jane was far from a puppet. Once she stepped into her role, Jane exercised a remarkable degree of independent authority.

In one of the documentary’s most revealing moments, Suzannah explores how Jane confronted the very men who had placed her on the throne. When the Lord High Treasurer suggested a crown be made for her husband, Guildford, Jane’s response was absolute: she vetoed the move, refusing to make him King and offering only the title of Duke. It was an extraordinary act of power for a 16 year-old girl in a patriarchal age.

The Streatham Portrait of Lady Jane Grey, believed to be based on a contemporary woodcut

Image Credit: National Portrait Gallery / Public Domain

As Mary arrived at Framlingham, the Privy Council in London resolved to meet Mary’s rebel forces in the field, dispatching the Duke of Northumberland to East Anglia to crush the uprising. Yet as the crisis intensified, Jane – isolated from direct events but sharp enough to recognise the shifting winds – realised she could no longer trust her own Council. Operating with decisive grit, she ordered a heavy guard be mounted around the Tower and effectively locked the Council in with her. 

Even as power began to slip from her grasp, Jane continued to wield what influence she could. On 18 July, she dispatched urgent letters to powerful landowners, issuing explicit commands to muster all available forces to repress the ‘tumults and rebellions’ threatening her crown.

Ultimately, however, her fate rested on her popularity with a nation she barely knew. As Suzannah observes, “As Queen, Jane played her cards well, but she could not change the hand that she had been dealt.”

Framlingham Castle

Image Credit: History Hit

The mutiny

The tide turned not on a battlefield, but through a series of mutinies and defections. In Episode Two, Suzannah discovers more about the “audacious play” that broke Jane’s reign.

Northumberland’s six royal warships, sent to block Mary’s path, had been forced into port by a storm. In a local tavern, a member of Mary’s household learned of the stranded ships and seized the moment, persuading the disgruntled, unpaid crews to switch their allegiance. It was a massive coup: the very fleet designed to stop Mary from getting artillery had now supplied it.

Discussing the mutiny’s impact on Jane’s claim to the throne, Suzannah meets historian Dr Stephan Edwards, who explains how this indicates how “the average man did not seem to support Jane.” 

The fall

As the Navy deserted and Northumberland’s army melted away, the “Nine Days” came to a crashing end. By 19 July, Jane’s Privy Council faced a stark truth. Reports confirmed that Mary’s support was rapidly growing. The nobles on the Council found even their own tenants were actively refusing their summons. It was now that that most Councillors abandoned the Tower, switching sides to survive.

When Jane’s own father delivered the news that Mary was Queen, Jane’s reaction was not anger, but relief. 

1910 depiction of Mary I entering London triumphantly, 15 days after the Council deposed Jane Grey and proclaimed Mary the new Queen (by John Byam Liston Shaw, 1910)

Image Credit: John Byam Liston Shaw, Palace of Westminster collection / PD-Art / Public Domain

The piety of a rebel

Queen Mary decided to pardon the majority of those who’d attempted to put Jane on the throne, but did not spare John Dudley, the Duke of Northumberland, who was executed on 22 August, 1553. Jane was left in limbo, locked up in the Tower for months.

Following a humiliating trial at the Guildhall in November, where both she and her husband pleaded guilty to high treason, Jane was returned to the Tower of London, this time as a prisoner. Although sentenced to be burned alive or beheaded at the Queen’s pleasure, Jane did not even pale at the news. However, for now, Queen Mary suspended the sentence, still hoping to avoid executing her young cousin.

In January, 1554, Queen Mary’s leniency towards Jane was shattered by the Wyatt’s Rebellion Protestant uprising. Disastrously for Jane, her own father, Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk had joined the rebellion. Put in an impossible position, Queen Mary signed Jane and her husband Guilford’s death warrant.

Even in the face of death, Jane remained a “brilliantly gifted” rebel. From her prison cell, she channelled her intellectual energy into fierce rhetoric, chiding those who abandoned their faith. 

Suzannah and British Library curator Dr Andrea Clark examine the very prayer book Jane carried to the scaffold – a symbol of the Protestant conviction she refused to abandon even when offered a pardon.

After watching her husband’s butchered remains carted past her window, Jane stepped onto Tower Green on 12 February 1554. Her final words were not those of a victim, but of a woman who had mastered her own narrative.

The afterlife of an icon

Finally, Suzannah examines the enduring ‘afterlife’ of Lady Jane Grey. In conversation with Verity Babbs at the National Gallery, she explores how romanticised art – most notably Paul Delaroche’s iconic 1833 masterpiece – has fuelled our obsession with Jane as a passive “damsel in distress”.

Production shot of Verity Babbs and Prof Suzannah Lipscombe discussing Paul Delaroche’s ‘The Execution of Lady Jane Grey’ painting at the National Gallery.

Image Credit: History Hit

By scraping away these layers of myth, the film reveals a far more compelling, brilliant, and self-aware figure. Jane emerges as a formidable intellect who navigated impossible circumstances with startling strength of character.

Step inside the Tower, walk the halls of Syon House, and discover the true strength of England’s most misunderstood monarch.

Watch Queen Jane: The Extraordinary Life of Lady Jane Grey – Episode Two now on History Hit to discover the true face of the ‘Nine Days’ Queen’

Watch Episode One here

Sign up to watch

In History Hit’s new documentary, The Ambassadors: Mysteries of a Tudor Masterpiece, Dr Tracy Borman takes us on a high-stakes detective trail. From the private galleries of the National Gallery in London to the sacred floor of Westminster Abbey, Tracy unpicks the secrets of a painting that is far more than a simple portrait; it is a coded message from the eye of a political storm.

Sign up to watch

A world turned upside down

To understand the painting, one must understand the year it was created. In 1533, England was a tinderbox. Henry VIII had secretly married Anne Boleyn, annulled his marriage to Catherine of Aragon, and effectively declared war on the religious authority of Rome.

It was into this volatile atmosphere that two French emissaries arrived on a mission for King Francis I of France: Jean de Dinteville, a magnificent 28-year-old nobleman, and Georges de Selve, a soberly dressed churchman – who may have been playing a double game as a spy for Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor.

History Hit’s Annie and Bill filming at the National Gallery

Image Credit: History Hit

The detective trail

Tracy Borman, who recently authored the National Gallery’s guide to the painting, explains that The Ambassadors is a “treasure trove of hidden meanings” that reveal the chaos of the Tudor court.  

“For a long time, there was a lot of debate about who these two men were,” Tracy notes. Why is a tiny, insignificant French village marked on the globe? And why does the floor beneath the men’s feet bear a forensic resemblance to the exact spot where Anne Boleyn was crowned?

Symbols of discord

The shelves between the two men are cluttered with weird and wonderful objects, but look closer and the ‘harmony’ of the scene begins to unravel:

• The broken string: On the lower shelf, a lute sits with a broken string – a stark symbol of religious and political division in Europe.
• The missing flute: A case of flutes is missing one instrument, further emphasising a world out of tune.
• The upside-down globe: A terrestrial globe depicts Europe upside down, focusing on Rome and Nuremberg – the flashpoints of the Reformation.

Production shot of Tracy Borman pointing out the broken string of the instrument

Image Credit: History Hit

The spy game

To understand how these men operated, Tracy visits Hampton Court Palace. In the 16th century, diplomacy was a game of whispers and access. Ambassadors didn’t have ministries; they had the Great Watching Chamber.

This was the ultimate ‘waiting room’ where ambassadors and spies would whisper and gather gossip while waiting for an audience with the King – the perfect place to gauge the temper of the court. As Tracy explores the hierarchy of these spaces with Tudor historian, Dr Alden Gregory, from Historic Royal Palaces, they reveal the ‘tightrope’ these men walked, balancing the impatient ego of Henry VIII against the demands of their own royal masters – the most powerful masters in Europe.

Witnessing the coronation

One of the most thrilling revelations in the documentary is the direct link between the painting and the most controversial event of 1533: the coronation of Anne Boleyn.

Tracy is granted rare permission to walk on the Cosmati Pavement in Westminster Abbey – the exact spot where Anne was crowned. Strikingly, the floor beneath the feet of the two men in Holbein’s painting bears a forensic resemblance to this very pavement.

“The message is that even great monarchs are rendered tiny before God,” Tracy explains. By placing the ambassadors on this sacred pattern, Holbein is signalling that they were there – witnessing the very moment Henry’s new Queen was anointed, an event that would change European history forever.

Tracy Borman gets special permission to walk on the Cosmati Pavement in Westminster Abbey

Image Credit: History Hit

Death and salvation

Of course, no discussion of The Ambassadors is complete without its most famous mystery: the ‘weird distorted shape’ hovering at the men’s feet.

When viewed from a specific angle, the smudge snaps into perspective as a human skull – a chilling memento mori that despite their fine silks and scientific instruments, death is the ultimate equaliser.

When viewed from a specific angle, the distorted shape hovering at the men’s feet in ‘The Ambassadors’ painting snaps into perspective as a human skull

Image Credit: History Hit

But Tracy looks further. Hidden at the very edge of the frame, half-concealed by a green curtain, is a tiny silver crucifix. “It is a symbol of hope and salvation,” she says. “The message is that salvation is there for those who seek it”, even in a world that appears to be on the brink of disaster.

Inside the investigation

Follow Tracy Borman as she explores the National Gallery and Westminster Abbey at close quarters, gaining unprecedented access to the very spaces where Tudor history was written.

Tracy dives deep into Holbein’s creative process with Dr Emma Capron, Curator at the National Gallery, to uncover how the artist balanced raw talent with scientific precision. The documentary explores Holbein’s staggering technical mastery, revealing his close collaboration with the King’s astronomer, Nicholas Kratzer, to render intricate scientific instruments with a level of detail that rivals modern photography.

By unpicking these details, the film seeks to uncover the truth of a masterpiece that seems to foretell the dark future of Henry VIII’s reign and the looming tragedy of Anne Boleyn.

Tracy Borman talks to Dr Emma Capron, Curator of Early Netherlandish and German Painting at the National Gallery about The Ambassadors painting

Image Credit: History Hit

Hans Holbein didn’t just paint two men; he captured a snapshot of a civilisation in the midst of a nervous breakdown. Through Tracy Borman’s expert guidance, we can finally begin to understand what these two wily ambassadors were thinking as they stared out of the canvas 500 years ago.

Watch The Ambassadors: Mysteries of a Tudor Masterpiece now on History Hit and discover the secrets hidden in plain sight.

Sign up to watch

But was Jane Grey truly the passive pawn history suggests? In History Hit’s new documentary series, Queen Jane: The Extraordinary Life of Lady Jane Grey, Professor Suzannah Lipscomb peels back the layers of romantic fiction to reveal the woman behind the myth. By examining Jane’s tragic story, Suzannah uncovers the precarious nature of power in a patriarchal age where a female sovereign defied all precedent.

It is time to meet the real Jane: an intellectual powerhouse, a defiant Protestant, and – as one historian describes her – a “kick-ass woman” of the Tudor court who reigned as Queen of England for 13 days.

Sign up to watch

Beyond the ‘Nine-Day’ myth

In Episode One, Suzannah explains how the story of Lady Jane Grey has been mythologised in the centuries since her death, noting how we need to think about how unwittingly we buy into that. 

“We refer to her as Lady Jane Grey – using her maiden name – and we don’t give her her title, ‘Queen Jane’”. Even the term ‘the 9 days queen’ is the victor’s perspective – she ruled for 13 days, from the death of Edward VI to the coup of Mary I. 

Instead, we should try to reckon with the real 17 year old noble woman and queen – the first queen to rule England in her own right? 

‘The Execution of Lady Jane Grey’ by Paul Delaroche, 1833

Image Credit: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Messages from Jane’s final hours

The most visceral evidence of Jane’s character lies in her own hand. At the British Library, Suzannah meets curator Andrea Clark to examine Jane’s personal prayer book – a tiny volume she carried to the scaffold. In its margins, Jane wrote personal messages in her final hours, including a poignant note of comfort to her father and a message she wrote to Sir John Brydges, Lieutenant of the Tower of London, who asked to keep her prayer book as a memento and to write a message to him in it. 

While history paints her as a frightened child, these notes reveal a woman of immense poise and an unwavering adult stoicism and faith. “She seems so adult,” Suzannah observes. “We talk about her as this teenage girl, but here she is comforting her father.”

Writing inside Lady Jane Grey’s prayer book, including her own handwriting written in.

A linguistic prodigy

To understand Jane’s steel, Suzannah looks at her upbringing at Bradgate Park in Leicestershire. Born between October 1536 and May 1537 into the royal lineage – her maternal grandmother was Henry VIII’s sister – Jane was never intended for a quiet life. While the average Tudor man was illiterate, Jane was a linguistic genius, mastering as many as eight languages.

Historian Dr J. Stephan Edwards explains how Jane’s father “spent considerable sums of money hiring the best people to teach her, which shows he was invested in his daughter’s learning.” The sophistication of Jane’s learning was extraordinary for the time – her education wasn’t just broad, it was elite, comparable to the finest university minds of the era. 

From the metaphysics of Plato to the radical Protestantism encouraged by her mentor, Queen Catherine Parr (whom Jane lived with for a time), Jane was being forged into one of the best-educated people in Western Europe. Her only true intellectual rival was her cousin, the future Elizabeth I. 

This was a woman who practiced the intricate art of penmanship with a perfectionist’s flare, a trait that signalled her intense focus and self-control.

Turning the tide of history

Jane’s path to the throne was not paved by her own ambition, but by the dying wishes of her cousin, the 15 year-old King Edward VI. As Edward’s health failed in 1553, he grew desperate to prevent his Catholic half-sister, Mary, from seizing power and dismantling the Protestant Reformation.

At the British Library, Suzannah examines Edward VI’s personal journal, which contains a candid, firsthand account of his intense religious clashes with his Catholic half-sister, Mary. This sets the stage for her visit to the Inner Temple legal library, where she investigates Edward’s ‘Device for the Succession’ – a fascinating map of a young yet dying King’s mind and a radical document that would change the course of English history.

Originally, Edward limited the succession to ‘heirs male’ – excluding his two older half-sisters Mary and Elizabeth out of hand which even his own father had declared illegitimate. Instead he preferred a line of descent through Henry VIII’s sister, his aunt Mary Tudor and her eldest daughter, the Protestant Lady Frances Grey, and through any future male offspring of her Protestant daughters, Lady Jane Grey and her sisters Lady Katherine and Lady Mary.

However, with death approaching and no male heirs in sight, Edward made a “judicious stroke of the pen” and altered his own legal decree by striking through the ‘s’ in ‘Lady Jane’s’ to create: ‘Lady Jane and her heirs male.’ With that single correction, he bypassed his sisters and placed Jane directly on the throne.

Edward VI’s ‘Device for the Succession’

Image Credit: Inner Temple Legal Library / History Hit

The King’s radical gamble

The documentary goes on to reveal the high-stakes gamble that forced the Privy Council “into a rock and a hard place situation”, according to head librarian Rob Ho. Suzannah views the original agreement where the highest lords in the land signed their names to Edward’s plan – a document that many feared was pure treason.

Had Edward lived until the autumn to enshrine this in law via Parliament, Jane’s reign might have lasted 40 years instead of 13 days. She was a woman built for power – assertive, brilliant, and unwilling to be controlled by the men surrounding her.

The precarious nature of power

Jane Grey’s story is a haunting reminder of the precarious nature of power in a patriarchal age. She was a woman built for sovereignty – assertive, brilliant, and unwilling to be controlled by the men surrounding her.

So how did a woman of such formidable intellect and resolve lose her grip on the crown in less than a fortnight? And what happened when the disinherited Mary Tudor began her ruthless, high-stakes march on London?

To discover the hidden reality of England’s first reigning Queen, watch Episode 1 of Queen Jane: The Extraordinary Life of Lady Jane Grey now on History Hit. Stay tuned for the dramatic conclusion in Episode 2, coming soon.

Sign up to watch

In History Hit’s compelling documentary ‘The Face of Anne Boleyn: Capturing a Queen’, Professor Suzannah Lipscomb visits Hever Castle – Anne’s childhood home  – to explore a landmark exhibition, Capturing a Queen, that brings together the largest collection of Anne’s portraits ever assembled. The documentary highlights the cutting-edge forensic science being used to determine if any of these surviving portraits’ “faces” capture the real woman, or if they are merely products of dynastic propaganda.

Sign up to watch

Beauty vs. deformity

The mystery begins with conflicting contemporary accounts. Contemporaries of Anne often noted her “beguiling dark eyes” and an elegant, olive-toned complexion. However, as Professor Lipscomb notes, “When it comes to Anne Boleyn, we need to think about who is writing the account.” The most enduring – and infamous description came decades after her death. 

In 1585, Catholic polemicist Nicholas Sander claimed Anne had a projecting tooth, a large cyst under her chin, and six fingers on her right hand. Writing 50 years after her execution, Sander’s “witch-like” caricature was a calculated attempt to delegitimise her daughter, Elizabeth I. This tug-of-war between admiration and vilification has coloured every artistic representation of Anne for centuries.

The “Most Happy” discovery

The documentary explores the collection of portraits of Anne from the 16th century, many of which depict her wearing a ‘B’ necklace – the iconic pearl strand that has become Anne’s visual shorthand. It also highlights a rare artefact: ‘The Moost Happi Medal’.

Loaned from the British Museum, this lead medallion from 1534 was cast when Anne was thought to be pregnant with a son. It is the only contemporary likeness of Anne undisputed by historians. Though damaged, it serves as a ‘Rosetta Stone’ for her features, providing a vital prototype to compare against later, potentially fictionalised paintings. 

‘The Moost Happi Medal’ – Left: original medal, damaged. Right: original sketch

Image Credit: British Museum / Hever Castle / History Hit

Icons of authority

In her lifetime, Anne was often defined by her personal iconography, which would have been familiar to everyone at court. These included a crowned falcon perched on a rose-bearing stump (a potent symbol of fertility and her promise of a male heir), and a leopard (a fierce emblem of royal authority). Such symbols of Anne were also found on her personal possessions.

At Hever, Suzannah examines Anne’s personal velvet-covered Book of Ecclesiastes. As Assistant Curator Kate McCaffrey remarks, “Her DNA is all over this.” It is in these intimate objects that we find a more authentic trace of Anne than many stylised portraits.

A dynastic mask

After her execution in 1536, Anne’s image was effectively purged from the royal record. It only resurfaced decades later during the reign of her daughter, Elizabeth I, as wealthy patrons commissioned ‘corridor portraits’ to signal Protestant loyalty to the Queen.

Scientific analysis, however, reveals a startling truth: many of these images were created using standardised “patterns” or stencils. Under-drawings suggest artists weren’t painting a woman they remembered, but were likely mapping Elizabeth I’s long, elegant face backward onto her mother.

During a perilous period for Elizabeth I’s reign, this “Elizabethanising” of Anne served to visually cement the Queen’s legitimacy to the court. As Suzannah summarises, this also implies that by the 1580s, painters didn’t know what Anne Boleyn looked like, so they were essentially “creating Anne from scratch on the basis of her daughter.”

Production shot of Prof Suzannah Lipscomb and Dr. Owen Emmerson discussing one of Anne Boleyn’s portraits on display at Hever Castle

Image Credit: History Hit

The Hever Rose portrait

A lot of the research done at Hever Castle has been focused on a well-known portrait in their own collection – the ‘Hever Rose Portrait’. 

Unlike the standardised Elizabethan patterns, this painting displays distinct facial variations and a deliberate later inclusion of Anne’s hands – showing a normal number of fingers – holding a rose of Lancaster, likely a direct rebuttal to Sanders’ ‘six-fingered’ rumours.

Dendrochronology has dated the wood panel used in the portrait to 1583. The portrait was sent to the Hamilton Kerr Institute at the Fitzwilliam Museum where an array of non-invasive technologies – including infra-red, x-rays, X-radiography and micro-invasive sampling – were used to help peer through the centuries of pigment and analyse the chemical composition of the paint. Research scientist Paul Van Laar explains that

“The exciting thing about many of these techniques is that we can look beneath what we see with the naked eye. We see the top paint layer but we never know what’s hidden underneath”.

Analysis of the Hever Rose portrait of Anne Boleyn

Image Credit: History Hit

The findings suggest that while this specific portrait was painted in 1583 – a perilous year for Elizabeth I’s reign – it was transferred from a master “pattern” that likely pre-dates the painting by decades. Could that master image date back to Anne’s own lifetime? This offers a tantalising possibility: a surviving link to a master image created during Anne’s actual lifetime.

The search continues

Finding the “real” Anne is about more than aesthetics. As Dr. Owen Emmerson observes, her contemporaries valued her “style, charisma, and intelligence” over her physical features. Yet, the quest to find the real face of Anne Boleyn is more than mere curiosity. Reclaiming her true likeness is an act of historical justice – stripping away the propaganda of her enemies and the political filters of her descendants to see the woman herself.

Join Suzannah Lipscomb at Hever Castle as she aims to uncover ‘The Face of Anne Boleyn: Capturing a Queen’.

Sign up to watch

In a new episode of Not Just The Tudors… Lates: Henry VIII on Film, Professor Suzannah Lipscomb hosts a discussion that dissects how Henry VIII has been reimagined on screen, exploring what these portrayals get right, what they get wrong, and why he remains such a compelling, complicated character. Suzannah is joined by an expert panel featuring Tudor specialist Jessie Childs, historian Dr Joanne Paul, and historian and screenwriter Alex Von Tunzelmann. Together, they trace the evolution of Henry’s cinematic image – from jolly rogue to calculated monster.

Sign up to watch

The King’s shifting image

The panel examines how different eras have moulded the King to suit their own fascinations:

The lovable rogue: The discussion begins with Charles Laughton’s Oscar-winning performance in ‘The Private Life of Henry VIII’ (1933). This landmark film broke box office records, and set the initial mould for how the 20th century would view the King, creating the persistent caricature of the gluttonous King gorging on feasts.  The film’s satirical element is also powerful; as Dr Joanne Paul states, “there is something inherently ridiculous about Henry VIII and there is something powerful about laughing at him.”

However, the film also reveals a surprisingly vulnerable Henry – a man desperately searching for love – a narrative that reframes the entire Tudor story focusing on the King’s own disappointments rather than solely on Anne Boleyn which tended to become popular later in the 20th century. 

Promotional still from the 1933 film ‘The Private Life of Henry VIII’ featuring Charles Laughton as King Henry VIII, and Elsa Lanchester as Anne of Cleves, on their wedding night.

Image Credit: Public Domain

The sinister seducer: Cinematic portrayals took a darker turn by the 1960’s with Richard Burton’s far more sinister Henry VIII in ‘Anne of the Thousand Days’ (1969). Made when film codes were loosening, this film is shocking in its sexual politics, presenting a menacing Henry who slaps Anne Boleyn. The panel argues over whether this dark portrayal is historically accurate or simply reflects the harsher edge of 1960s filmmaking. Whilst Alex dislikes the film, Joanne, however, appreciates that the film shifts the narrative, portraying Anne as resisting Henry’s advances, giving her a power beyond simple sexual manipulation.

The Renaissance heartthrob: The modern era offered a complete reboot with Jonathan Rhys Meyers in ‘The Tudors’ (2007-2010). Once dubbed “soft porn disguised as history” by film critic Mark Lawson, this depiction of a youthful, impossibly handsome Henry captured a crucial, often-missed element: the King’s early charisma and fire. The panel discusses how Rhys Meyers successfully embodied the beguiling and magnetic young Henry described in historical sources.

Portrait of Henry VIII (1491-1547) by
Hans Holbein the Younger in 1540

Image Credit: Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica / Public Domain

Behind the persona: vicious or vulnerable?

The discussion moves beyond looks to dissect the political calculations of the King’s rule.

The calculated monster: The panel contrasts modern portrayals that focus on Henry’s immense power. In ‘Wolf Hall’ (2015), Jessie describes Henry as the “master… the monster” who subtly whispers his murderous desires to Thomas Cromwell. However, Joanne finds the performance “lacklustre,” arguing that it fails to capture the “fire in his eyes” and the physically terrifying presence Henry was known for in his time. This contrasts with Jude Law’s terrifying and grotesque late-life King in Firebrand (2023), where you can palpably feel the menace of a powerful man consumed by his own physical decay.

The enduring enigma

The experts agree that every portrayal – from Laughton’s funny rogue to Law’s terrifying tyrant – is a work of fiction that must choose one angle to convey. Joanne notes the fascinating paradox that two different films, Anne of the Thousand Days and Firebrand, essentially portray the same grotesque, controlling Henry, yet the viewer’s modern interpretation of that control shifts dramatically – is it repulsive, or is it interpreted as power?

The enduring power of Henry VIII lies in these contradictions: he was a brilliant scholar, a charismatic athlete, and an unforgiving tyrant.

So, which version of Henry VIII is the most historically convincing, and which one is the panel’s favourite? Join Professor Suzannah Lipscomb and her expert panel as they dissect the King’s cinematic afterlife and reveal the historical truth behind the actors in Not Just The Tudors… Lates: Henry VIII on Film.

Sign up to watch

Was it a tragic accident? A desperate suicide? Or something far more sinister?

In this special episode of the Tudor True Crime mini-series on History Hit’s podcast, Not Just the Tudors, Professor Suzannah Lipscomb steps into the shadows to investigate one of the most enduring mysteries of the Elizabethan age. She is joined by historian Dr Joanne Paul to sift through the evidence and the gossip, exploring why Amy’s death was a scandal that could have brought down a queen.

Subscribe to Not Just The Tudors

A marriage under scrutiny

Amy Dudley (née Robsart) had the unfortunate distinction of being the main obstacle to the most scandalous potential romance in Tudor England. Married to Robert Dudley since they were teenagers, the couple’s relationship had been a complex one. While some sources suggest it was a genuine love match, the marriage came with significant political and economic advantages.

However, as Joanne explains, with the arrival of Elizabeth I on the throne in 1558, everything changed. Robert Dudley became Elizabeth’s Master of the Horse, a position of unparalleled closeness, and the two were inseparable. Rumours began to fly across Europe that the queen was courting him, and that he might even become her king. But there was one problem: his wife.

Amy and Robert had spent a significant amount of time apart since the beginning of Elizabeth’s reign. After more than a decade of marriage, they also remained childless, a significant pressure in an era where producing a family heir was paramount. There was also one fragment of a rumour that she may have had breast cancer. Amy had even been seen by her servants as deeply unhappy, praying nightly to be “delivered from her troubles.” This adds a haunting layer of tragedy to the events that would follow.

The day of her death

The circumstances of Amy’s death are as strange as they are suspicious. On that fateful day, Amy rose early and insisted that all of her servants leave the house to attend a nearby fair. Despite their protests, she became angry and demanded that they all go, leaving her completely alone. When the servants returned, they found her dead.

A coroner’s inquest was immediately called, and while it concluded her death was an accident, the details of the report raise more questions than they answer. Joanne reveals how the report, only rediscovered in 2008, notes not just the broken neck, but also two head wounds, one of which was an astonishing two inches deep.

Why were these head injuries downplayed by the coroner, John Pudsey, as the potential cause of death? Could these injuries have been sustained from a fall? Or did something else happen before she went down the stairs? 

Adding to the mystery is the account of Robert Dudley’s servant, Thomas Blunt, who was sent to investigate the death. His letters to Dudley reveal a town alive with gossip, and a nervous maid, Mrs Picto, who, in a slip of the tongue, denied the possibility of murder or suicide, then immediately tried to take back her words, saying “If you so should gather I’m sorry I said so much”.

The Death of Amy Robsart, as imagined by Victorian artist William Frederick Yeames, 1877

Tragic accident, suicide or murder?

The podcast delves into the possibilities of a tragic accident, suicide or murder, and the powerful motives behind a potential cover-up.

Suicide in the 16th century was considered a mortal sin, a betrayal of God’s gift of life that would lead to the posthumous conviction and excommunication of the deceased. It was a shame so profound that it would disgrace an entire family. This gives a great incentive for the coroner’s jury to rule Amy’s death an accident, even if they suspected otherwise.

But what about murder? Joanne explains that while Amy’s death didn’t immediately lead to a marriage with the Queen, it did end up benefiting one of the most powerful men in England: William Cecil. Before news of Amy’s death had even reached London, Cecil was already spreading rumours that she would be killed. The Spanish ambassador himself seemed convinced of a conspiracy.

Cecil, a man with a political, calculating mind, feared the prospect of Elizabeth marrying Dudley – a man whose family had been executed for treason. Cecil stood to gain a great deal from Dudley’s downfall, and he famously swooped in after Amy’s death to “comfort” him, a move that would lead to a much closer relationship between the two.

As Joanne explains to Suzannah, when studying the Tudors, it helps to “follow the power”, later pointing out how “it all seems to work out for Cecil in a way that if he didn’t plan it, it looks like he did”.

Left: Robert Dudley, c. 1560; Right: Portrait of William Cecil, c. after 1570

Image Credit: Left: Attributed to Steven van der Meulen; Right: National Trust / Croft Castle. Both: Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain

So was it a strategic move by Cecil to disgrace Robert, preventing a potential marriage to the Queen, or something more? The evidence seems to point to a murder conspiracy, a possibility that was widely discussed in the courts of Europe at the time.

But how far can we go with the evidence towards a conclusion – and extrapolating from that evidence, where does Joanne herself, as a historian, end up if she had to make a judgement?

The death of Amy Dudley cuts to the very heart of power in the Tudor court. It reflects on Elizabeth’s choices, her relationship with those closest to her, and the dangers of a world where one person’s life could stand in the way of a powerful monarch’s desires. The mystery of what happened that day at Cumnor Place has never been solved, but the clues, the rumours, and the political machinations all paint a compelling and haunting picture.

Join Professor Suzannah Lipscomb and Dr Joanne Paul as they unravel one of the Tudor period’s greatest mysteries in Not Just the Tudors’ Tudor True Crime: Murder of Amy Dudley.

Subscribe to Not Just The Tudors

This is the official account, based on a coroner’s inquest and passed down for centuries – but what if it’s not the whole story? What if the “tavern brawl” was no accident but a planned assassination? Who truly stabbed the titan of the Elizabethan stage, and who, in the dark, conspiratorial world of Tudor England, might have carefully orchestrated his death?

In History Hit’s podcast, Not Just the Tudors, Professor Suzannah Lipscomb steps out of the sunlight and into the shadows to investigate the most notorious true crimes of the period in a Tudor True Crime mini-series. In this episode, she is joined by literary historian and author, Charles Nicholl, whose groundbreaking book, The Reckoning: The Murder of Christopher Marlowe, challenged the long-held assumptions about that fatal day. Together, they re-examine the original coroner’s inquest, a document that, for centuries, kept the true nature of Marlowe’s death a secret, and dig deeper into a mystery that, more than 400 years later, remains a subject of intense speculation and historical detective work.

Subscribe to Not Just The Tudors

Christopher Marlowe, a writer whose genius rivalled that of Shakespeare, was just 29 years old when his life was cut short. His death, often dismissed as the tragic consequence of a drunken squabble, has long been a source of fascination. It was a scandal whispered about in the streets and immortalised in the work of his contemporary, Shakespeare, who six years later would write in As You Like It of a “great reckoning in a little room.” This phrase, an unmistakable nod to Marlowe’s demise, highlights the widespread suspicion that the official story was a cover-up for something more sinister.

The coroner’s inquest

To uncover the truth, Suzannah and Charles revisit the crucial document that provided the official narrative: the coroner’s inquest. From this account, we learn that four men met at a house belonging to a woman named Eleanor Bull on Deptford Strand. The men were Marlowe and three of his associates: Ingram Frizer, Nicholas Skeres, and Robert Poley. They spent a long day together, talking, eating, and walking in the garden before returning to the private room.

According to the inquest, a dispute over the “reckoning” – the bill for food and drink – escalated violently. Marlowe, lying on a bed while the other three sat with their backs to him, allegedly snatched Frizer’s dagger and struck him twice on the head with the hilt. In the struggle that followed, Frizer supposedly twisted the weapon back and delivered the fatal thrust.

But as Charles Nicholl points out to Suzannah, a closer look at this account immediately raises red flags. “We can dispense straight away from the inquest…that it wasn’t really a tavern brawl,” he explains. The location wasn’t a public house, but a private residence. And with only four men in the room, it’s hardly what one would call a brawl. More damning still, the inquest’s narrative is based on the testimony of the three men who walked out alive.

Christopher Marlowe’s memorial in the Churchyard at St Nicholas, Deptford. The epithaph is from the epilogue to Marlowe’s play ‘Doctor Faustus’.

Image Credit: Flickr: Maggie Jones / Public Domain

The suspects

So, who were these three men? As Charles bluntly puts it, they were “a trio of absolute scoundrels.” And their connections to one another and to Marlowe reveal a web of intrigue far more complex than a simple dispute over a bill.

First, there was Ingram Frizer, the man who struck the fatal blow. He was a crooked businessman, but more importantly, he was a servant of Thomas Walsingham, one of Marlowe’s powerful patrons. Marlowe had been staying at Walsingham’s house just 10 days before his death.

Then there was Nicholas Skeres, a low-level operator involved in the world of intelligence and “dirty tricks.” He was also connected to the powerful Earl of Essex, a favourite of Queen Elizabeth I.

Finally, there was Robert Poley, a spy of significant stature. By 1593, Poley was a senior agent working for Sir Robert Cecil, the son of the spymaster Lord Burghley. A man of “dangerous charm,” Poley was a central figure in the Elizabethan espionage machine.

These were not random drinking companions. They were a carefully chosen group of men with deep ties to the very heart of the Tudor secret service, assembled to meet with a man who, for all his literary brilliance, was also a low-level government spy.

Sir Robert Cecil, 1st Earl of Salisbury, the son of the spymaster Lord Burghley. Robert Poley was working for Sir Cecil at the time of Marlowe’s death.

Image Credit: National Portrait Gallery / Public Domain

Political links and espionage

For centuries, the coroner’s inquest remained the sole surviving official document, its details a closely guarded secret. It wasn’t until 1925 that archivist Leslie Hotson discovered uncatalogued legal proceedings connecting Marlowe’s murder to the shadowy world of politics and espionage. Before this revelation, the truth was shrouded in rumour and misinterpretation, with historical mix-ups even leading to the wrong killer’s name being recorded in church registers for decades.

The real questions, as Suzannah and Charles explore, lie in the motive. Why would three men of such influence, who had spent a full day in Marlowe’s company, suddenly fall into a violent argument?

Charles Nicholl argues that the entire meeting was a ruse – a long, eight-hour “reckoning” that had nothing to do with a bill. The men were there to talk to Marlowe about his “blasphemies” and political leanings. Marlowe was a man of contradictions: a religious subversive, a brilliant dramatist, and a spy for the Crown. Charles suggests that the authorities were worried.

Marlowe’s radical views, often reflected in his plays, were a liability, and his intelligence work gave him dangerous knowledge. The long day in Deptford was likely an attempt to get Marlowe to turn on one of his patrons, Sir Walter Raleigh, in exchange for his own freedom.

Settling scores

Ultimately, the fatal “dispute” was not a spontaneous outburst but a culmination of a life lived on the dangerous borders of acceptable behaviour. Marlowe, the creator of fictions on the stage, was also a creator of fictions in his espionage operations. This double life, as Charles explains, made him both a valuable asset and a ticking time bomb. The “reckoning” in that little room in Deptford was less about a bill for food and drink and more about settling a score for good.

The question of who murdered Christopher Marlowe and why remains, but by re-examining the evidence, uncovering the identities of the men in that room, and peeling back the layers of Tudor espionage, Professor Suzannah Lipscomb and Charles Nicholl offer a compelling and suspenseful account that will challenge everything you thought you knew about one of England’s greatest writers.

Join them as they pull back the curtain on this extraordinary true crime.

Listen to the latest episode of Not Just the Tudors and discover the truth behind the murder of Christopher Marlowe.

Subscribe to Not Just The Tudors

In the latest podcast episode of Betwixt The Sheets’ Royal Sex mini-series, Dr Kate Lister is joined by Professor Anna Whitelock, a renowned historian of monarchy, to delve into the fascinating complexities of Elizabeth’s reign, exploring how her personal choices became defining political statements. The series explores queens often remembered for their sex lives, making it essential to turn our attention to the woman so frequently defined by her lack of one. Renowned as the ‘Virgin Queen’, the enduring question remains: was Elizabeth I truly a virgin?

Subscribe to Betwixt The Sheets

Sex, succession, and celebrity

Our enduring fascination with the Tudors, as Professor Whitelock and Kate discuss, partly stems from the wealth of historical sources that reveal them not just as political figures, but as relatable individuals, whose personal lives – especially their sex lives – were inextricably linked to their political power and burgeoning celebrity. From Henry VIII’s prominent codpiece in his Holbein portrait, to Elizabeth’s strategically placed bow in the Armada portrait (a deliberate statement about her virginity as a source of political strength), the personal and the political converged as never before. 

At its core, monarchy is about succession, and succession, ultimately, is about sex. In the Tudor period, this became the very “stuff of politics”: the dynasty’s survival literally hinged on the monarch’s ability to produce offspring, as vividly demonstrated by Henry VIII’s desperate quest for a male heir, Edward VI’s brief reign, and Mary I’s phantom pregnancies.

Portrait of Elizabeth I of England, the Armada Portrait

Image Credit: Formerly attributed to George Gower (1540–1596) / Public Domain

Elizabeth’s early struggles and rise to power

Some of Elizabeth’s early experiences may potentially have played a role in her later choice to remain single. Her mother, Anne Boleyn, had been executed on charges of adultery, and whilst she still revered her father, Henry VIII, they had a complex relationship. 

Professor Whitelock also discusses The Seymour Scandal, a formative event in teenage Elizabeth I’s life. Thomas Seymour, her stepmother Catherine Parr’s husband, engaged in inappropriate early-morning visits to Elizabeth’s bedroom. After Catherine’s death, Seymour plotted to marry Elizabeth for political gain, but his arrest led to Elizabeth’s interrogation regarding their relationship. Though exonerated, this perilous experience taught her the dangers of flirtation and the paramount importance of an untarnished public image, potentially shaping her future relationships with men.

Elizabeth’s perilous path to the throne was also marked by periods of immense stress and even imprisonment in the Tower of London under the tumultuous reign of her half-sister Mary I. Navigating a dangerous political landscape where she became a figurehead for opposition, Elizabeth emerged onto the throne in 1558 as a truly formidable woman: attractive, accomplished, and exceptionally intelligent.

Professor Whitelock highlights the unique scrutiny faced by a female monarch. Unlike kings, her own body was directly implicated in producing an heir, subjecting Elizabeth’s health and fertility to intense political observation.

The ‘Virgin Queen’: a political masterstroke?

Ascending the throne in 1558, Elizabeth I, the first unmarried queen, faced immense pressure to wed and secure the succession. Her marital prospects immediately became the subject of intense international scrutiny. Diplomats across Europe eagerly sought information about her menstrual cycle, as her fertility was paramount to her value as a potential spouse. 

Furthermore, her enemies, particularly Catholics, relentlessly attacked her sexual reputation, spreading rumours of promiscuity, especially with her alleged favourite, Robert Dudley.

Professor Whitelock reveals that for years, Europe debated whether Elizabeth was a virgin. This question became critical as Elizabeth aged and approached menopause, diminishing her value as a marriage prospect. It was at this crucial juncture that the iconic ‘Virgin Queen’ image was meticulously crafted – a brilliant political manoeuvre that transformed her inability to produce an heir into a powerful virtue. 

The podcast delves into whether Elizabeth truly intended to marry, exploring the lingering shadow of Mary I’s unpopular marriage to Philip of Spain, and her own apparent affection for Robert Dudley. The enduring mystery of her relationship with Dudley, and its non-consummation, fuelled both slander and strategically explained her prolonged celibacy. This ‘Virgin Queen’ persona ultimately converted profound vulnerability into unparalleled political strength and mystique.

Pair of miniatures of Elizabeth I and Robert Dudley, c. 1575, by Nicholas Hilliard.

Image Credit: Nicholas Hilliard / Public Domain

Robert Dudley: the controversial favourite

Elizabeth I’s bond with Robert Dudley, her Master of the Horse, sparked intense speculation. Their flirtatious relationship became deeply complicated by the suspicious death of Dudley’s wife, Amy Robsart, just two years into Elizabeth’s reign, fuelling rumours of foul play and making marriage between them nearly impossible. The podcast delves into this intricate web of court intrigue, foreign alliances, and personal affections. 

Professor Whitelock also sheds light on the intriguing role of the Queen’s trusted female ‘bedfellows’. Could these close companions have facilitated secret dalliances? Kate and Anna explore this fascinating role of female intimacy as political intimacy in Elizabeth’s court, where loyal women could have provided critical access and protection for the Queen’s private life. 

A queue of suitors

Despite her enduring bond with Robert Dudley, Elizabeth I faced a constant stream of marriage proposals from European suitors, including Philip II of Spain and François, Duke of Anjou. Elizabeth masterfully ‘dallied’ with these contenders, strategically prolonging negotiations to keep her council and Parliament at bay. This skilled procrastination ultimately led to the powerful creation of her ‘Virgin Queen’ image as she passed her childbearing years. The podcast reveals how this iconic persona, famously depicted in the Armada Portrait, transformed her dynastic weakness into a symbol of ultimate strength and unity with her ‘impenetrable’ realm.

The legacy of the unmarried queen

Elizabeth I’s decision to remain unmarried allowed her to wield unprecedented personal power, yet also left a dynastic void. The podcast explores how her successor, James I, even tried to reshape her legacy after her death. 

A persistent question remains: was Elizabeth truly a virgin when she died? Professor Whitelock discusses the historical speculation, including theories of hidden physical impediments or concealed non-virginity. While ultimately unknowable, the stakes for her reputation and England’s succession were incredibly high.

Listen to Royal Sex: Elizabeth I to uncover the complex interplay of power, politics, and personal choices that defined England’s most celebrated monarch.

Subscribe to Betwixt The Sheets

The feminine beauty ideal was in essence to personify the English rose, and nobody embodied this more than Queen Elizabeth I herself. To this end various make-up techniques were devised and circulated in recipes, a phenomenon spurred on by the spread of the printing press.

Some of these methods were harmful, including arsenic skin masks, mercury lipstick, and lead skin whitener. Others were innocuous but to our eyes still quite strange. How about varnishing your face with egg whites?

Perhaps you would be even less keen on puppy juice, an Early Modern concoction as horrifying as it sounds.

“Unfortunately it’s exactly what you think it is,” explains Sally Pointer, educator and author of The Artifice of Beauty: A History and Practical Guide to Perfume and Cosmetics, who joins Professor Suzannah Lipscomb in an episode of Not Just the Tudors.

The prevailing Tudor enthusiasm for alchemy suggested that it was possible to extract the qualities of something through distillation. One of these distillations, which indicates a ruthless zeal in harvesting seemingly wholesome ingredients, was puppy dog water.

“You take a beautiful, young, soft, perfect puppy,” says Pointer. It is then (for lack of a better word) chopped up. It is then boiled. “Sadly it doesn’t survive the experience.”

Portrait of Clarissa Strozzi by Titian, 1542, where she holds her Phalène dog.

Image Credit: Public Domain

The alembic it is distilled in contained other liquids, probably wine or water. “You distil it and the water is supposed to contain all the virtues of all the things that made the puppy young and beautiful and adorable.”

The resulting water would then be used as a cosmetic toner with moisturising properties.

“This wasn’t a one-off,” says Pointer. “We have lots of references to this.”

A recipe recorded in Nicholas Culpeper’s 17th century Pharmacopoeia Londinensis instructs:

“Takes Sallet Oil four pound, two Puppy-dogs newly whelped, Earthworms washed in white Wine one pound; boil the Whelps til they fall in pieces then put in the worms a while after strain it, then with three ounces of Cypress Turpentine, and one ounce of Spirits of Wine, perfect the Oil according to Art.”

Reassuringly, not everybody was keen on the idea. The famous diarist Samuel Pepys, whose private accounts make up one of the most important historical sources for the period, records that he became upset with his wife because she tried this puppy concoction.

Listen to the episode now or sign up to History Hit for advert-free listening to 8 podcast series, with early access and bonus episodes for subscribers.

Sign up to listen advert free

Here we explore more about how merchants ensured quality control following The Great Debasement to prove that their coins, and the coins they were trading with, were accurate – and the importance of this in England’s credibility in global trade.

The Great Debasement

During the reign of King Henry VIII, England faced significant economic changes, notably marked by the Great Debasement. The Great Debasement refers to a deliberate policy undertaken by Henry VIII to devalue the currency as a means to bolster the royal treasury and address financial woes.

In order to increase revenue for the Crown, from 1544, Henry VIII began reducing the amount of precious metal in gold coins. This act aimed to create more coins from the same quantity of silver, effectively increasing the money supply. However, the consequence was a decline in the value of currency, leading to inflation and economic instability.

The process of debasement continued with subsequent reductions in the silver content of coins. In some cases, the precious metal content was replaced almost entirely with cheaper base metals such as copper. This policy had a profound impact on the economy, resulting in rising prices, economic uncertainty, disruption of trade, and a loss of public trust in the currency.

While the Great Debasement temporarily aided the Crown’s financial situation, it ultimately contributed to economic turmoil and long-term consequences for England’s monetary system, requiring subsequent monarchs to address and stabilise the currency.

Impact on trade

The accuracy of a coin’s value was not just important internally, but also of upmost importance for merchants trading oversees – both for their personal credibility and indeed the credibility of the nation.

The devalued currency caused by the Great Debasement led to a decline in the purchasing power of English coins abroad. This made English goods more expensive for foreign buyers, diminishing the competitiveness of English exports in international markets. As a result, England faced challenges in maintaining its previous levels of trade and struggled to sustain favourable trade balances with other countries.

Furthermore, the fluctuating value of the currency caused uncertainty for foreign merchants and traders engaging in commerce with England. The diminished value of English coins made transactions and negotiations complicated, affecting trust and confidence in trade dealings.

Merchants’ Scales and Weights, probably made in the mid-17th century in Cologne

Image Credit: Brandeis University / Robert D. Farber University Archives and Special Collections

Recovery

The recovery of English trade after the Great Debasement was gradual and spanned several decades. Subsequently, to cover their backs, 17th century merchants carried their own scales and weights to do quality control checks themselves, proving and verifying that their coins, and the coins they were trading with, were accurate. They also used ‘merchant books’ which detailed all of the characteristics, dimensions and weights that coins should be, as well as featuring drawings of all their coins.

During the late 16th and early 17th centuries, under the reign of Elizabeth I, England began to witness a resurgence in trade. On ascending to power, Elizabeth I restored coins back to an accurate value, restoring faith in England’s coins. However, it’s hard to overstate just how much the Great Debasement had affected trade relations and the way in which foreign merchants, and foreign countries viewed England’s coinage.

Coins from the reign of Elizabeth I

Image Credit: The Royal Mint

However, eventually the Elizabethan Era saw significant advancements in trade and commerce. England’s maritime exploration, including voyages led by explorers like Sir Francis Drake and Walter Raleigh, opened up new trade routes and expanded commercial opportunities. Additionally, the establishment of trading companies, such as the East India Company in 1600, further bolstered England’s trade endeavours, leading to economic growth and prosperity. This would not have happened should the Great Debasement have still been in effect.