Fact or Fiction? - what Showtime’s The Tudors Did Wrong...

Written by Emma Holbrook, Ellie Webster, Victoria Borisch and Hannah Fawcett

When it comes to historical television, Showtime’s The Tudors is one of the most popular, well-known, and heavily discussed shows of the twentieth century. From the very first episode, it captivated audiences worldwide with its dramatic, sexy, and sometimes bloody content as well as featuring talented actors and actresses to portray complex historical figures of the Tudor era. However, whilst the raw sex appeal of its lead actors, Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Natalie Dormer kept the show in the spotlight, its consistency of fictionalising real-life events and people has remained a huge talking point in regards to the show.
From completely rewriting a historical figure’s life to inaccurately portraying an important event in Tudor history, there is an abundance of historical inaccuracies throughout The Tudors’ four seasons. In this piece, we shall be exploring some of our favourite inaccuracies in more depth and offering an explanation behind Showtime’s decision to portray more fiction than fact and how it could have been more accurately portrayed on the screen.
Season 1:
The Death of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey:
“If you want to keep the love of a Prince, Thomas, you must be prepared to give him the one thing you value most in the whole world.”
– Cardinal Wolsey

Season One brought us a bucket load of drama, conflict and, naturally with steamy male leads, plenty of sex. There is no doubt that Showtime definitely understood not only how to captivate audiences but keep them wanting more, and the final episode, most appropriately named The Death of Wolsey, did not disappoint. As you guessed, this final episode brought an end to the tragic downfall of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, an influential political figure of the Henrician court. The Cardinal’s swift fall from grace is highlighted much within the season, focusing on how many within the King’s court could fall so mightily from the pedestal he placed them on.
In The Death of Wolsey, the Cardinal has reached his lowest point both in his political career and in his life. His unpopularity at court amongst the nobility, most of whom disapprove of his humble beginnings as the son of a butcher, his ‘inability’ to control the King and his carnal activities with ladies of the court and his political failures including the lack of progress in securing the King’s divorce from his first wife, Catalina de Aragon, so he may take a second wife in his mistress, Anne Boleyn.
Previously, the Cardinal believed that he would find favour once again with the King since he had been a loyal, devoted servant to both him and his father, the late King Henry VII. Unfortunately for Cardinal Wolsey, his most trusted allies, including his soon-to-be successor Thomas Cromwell, have turned against him, the influence of ‘Mistress’ Boleyn strengthens with every passing day, and with the King expelling him from his offices and thus removing him from court, the Cardinal has lost almost all his power and influence. His foreign allies can do nothing to help him smoothen his broken relationship with the Tudor king and all hope seems lost when the King imprisons the Cardinal for high treason, awaiting a trial based on an intercepted letter written by the Cardinal which almost certainly will result in death.
Therefore, the Cardinal, grief stricken over the loss of his influence and relationship with the King, prays to God for a final time, apologising for his sinful ways and failure to remain uncorrupted as a man of God. His last words are that, for he is a sinful man, he must commit one final sin although he acknowledges God will not forgive him yet as he is not an evil man at heart, he will throw his unworthy soul on God’s mercy regardless, hoping for absolution. Then, with a shaky breath, the Cardinal commits his final sin; taking his own life by slitting his throat with a small dagger that, prior to this, was used to eat his final meal.
With the Cardinal’s life taken, the King is soon informed by Thomas Cromwell, who would have been informed within moments of the Cardinal’s death, that his once beloved Cardinal has performed the ultimate sin of committing suicide. Setting aide his anger at the Cardinal’s assumed treason, the King is stricken with grief, instructing Thomas Cromwell to quickly depose of the body in a Christian way and that no one shall learn the truth of the Cardinal’s suicide, it is to remain between them alone. Demanding privacy, the King stands alone as regret fills his features; the reality setting in that, whilst the Cardinal betrayed him, he has now lost the one man he could always depend on—a man so broken by the loss of the King’s love that he felt compelled to end his life altogether.
This is how Cardinal Thomas Wolsey’s life ends—according to The Tudors. However, whilst this dramatic scene added extra tension within the show, the premise of the Cardinal’s suicide is both historically inaccurate and ultimately an impossibility for how the Cardinal would have acted in real life.
How is the Cardinal’s death in The Tudors historically inaccurate?—The answer is a simple one: he did not commit suicide. The unfortunate cause of Cardinal Wolsey’s downfall was his failure to secure the King’s annulment from Catalina de Aragon (known as Catherine of Aragon) to marry Anne Boleyn. The annulment process was already taking too long for Henry VIII as ‘the King’s Great Matter’ had begun negotiations in early 1527. The King expected a quick divorce; Anne was still young and he wanted to jump straight into marriage with her to have the best chances of getting a male heir as soon as possible. However, as both Catalina and the Pope in Rome were strongly fighting against the divorce, it made the Cardinal’s life and work much harder. By 1529, Henry—and Anne Boleyn, who was initially reluctant to enter a relationship with the King—were irritated by the amount of time it was taking to secure the divorce. Rumours soon spread that Anne Boleyn had convinced the King that the Cardinal was secretly slowing proceedings down deliberately because he supported the King’s current wife over Anne Boleyn.
Whether this is true or not, Anne certainly played a part in the Cardinal’s downfall; losing the King’s trust was a heavy blow upon any key political player of the Henrician court and the Cardinal knew this very well. He had witnessed the downfall of many of his enemies and even members of the court he believed to be somewhat allies of his. Never in his wildest dreams would he expect to be the next victim of the King’s temper and impatience.
Henry VIII made the decision to strip the Cardinal of almost all his government office and properties, including the Palace of Whitehall which Henry made his main London residence, to limit the Cardinal’s power, wealth, and influence. Henry wanted to show the Cardinal the repercussions of not giving him what he desired and this was merely the start of his tragic end. Whilst most of his offices were stripped, the King was merciful in permitting him to remain the Archbishop of York, the reason unknown. Because of this, the Cardinal travelled to Yorkshire for the first time to reside at one of his Archbishop residences; Cawood Castle. It was there that the Cardinal’s fate was decided; a former member of his household and a man he wronged many years before came to deliver the news; the King ordered his arrest on the charge of high treason and he was to be conducted to the Tower of London to await trial.
The man who delivered this news?—Henry Percy, 6th Earl of Northumberland and the former love of Anne Boleyn. The Cardinal was the very person who forbade the two to marry and perhaps it was karma that the man he wronged was delivering him to prison and the woman he forbade to marry for love was the cause of his downfall. He denied Anne Boleyn her love and so she stole the King’s favour from him. Only fair, right?
So far, The Tudors has gotten almost everything about the Cardinal’s downfall correct. He was stripped of almost every worldly possession he owned; he was arrested for high treason and he was conducted to the Tower.
However, unlike his fictional counterpart, the real Cardinal sadly (or most fortunately) did not make it to the Tower. In the Tudor era, London was quite a distance to travel from Yorkshire and thus it would require many days to reach the destination by horse and carriage. Thomas Wolsey’s journey began on the evening of 7th November 1530 where he left Cawood Castle, briefly lodging at Pomfret Abbey that same night before reaching Sheffield Castle the next day. It was here he would stay for fourteen days and the worst possible fate befell him—if that was even possible at this point.
The Cardinal was no stranger to disease and illness as he would survive the same sweating sickness that plagued Anne Boleyn just two years prior. However, this next sickness would be his very last. Soon after arriving at Sheffield Castle, he fell dangerously ill with dysentery—a disease also known as the bloody flux after the most common symptom was bloody diarrhoea. This disease was not pretty; it left victims with high fevers, dehydration, and severe abdominal pain. At the time, the Cardinal’s health was thought to be declining rapidly, with his custodian Sir William Kingston, the Constable of the Tower of London, believing his end was near. His guards believed so also, weeping openly for all to see.
And Sir William Kingston’s beliefs were correct as, upon reaching Leicester Abbey on 27th November, the Cardinal’s health had declined so rapidly that he had to be carried to bed. There he stayed, his vision failing and repeatedly falling in and out of consciousness—it was clear for everyone to see: the Cardinal’s time was near and thus preparations must be made. Ever a pious man, the Cardinal made his last confession at 7am on 29th November and passed a mere hour later.
It was dysentery that ended the Cardinal’s life, not suicide. A cruel, painful disease ended the Cardinal’s suffering, sparing him a trip to the dreaded Tower of London where many of the King’s victims have met a gruesome fate—by execution or a lifetime imprisonment following torture.
But why did The Tudors change the Cardinal’s cause of death? Easy—it made for great television.
Would viewers have been as affected by the Cardinal’s death if they had watched him fade away from a disease that caused bloody diarrhoea and fever?
No! Suicide dramatically increased the tension of the show, highlighting just how weakened the Cardinal was following his exile and downfall. And the reason suicide was chosen over an assassination was just as the Cardinal said—to emphasise the Cardinal’s sinful nature.
In the Tudor era, suicide was considered the ultimate sin. It was unforgivable in the eyes of God, the only person capable of giving and removing life. The scriptures listed suicide was one of the sins against the sixth commandment, stating “you shall not murder” in Exodus 20:13. Suicide is the murder of oneself meaning it was considered a sin to murder oneself. Humans were created in the image of God and thus are a reflection of Him—committing the sin of murdering oneself contradicted everything God stood for.
Suicide was considered a sinful act and therefore was attributed to the work of Satan as Satan tempted Jesus Christ to throw himself from the temple in Jerusalem in the hopes that God’s angels rescue him from death, as recorded in Matthew 4:5-7 and Psalm 91:11-12. As Jesus resisted temptation from the Devil, humans themselves must not succumb to his devilish charms by not committing suicide.
One example of suicide in the Bible is from the man who betrayed Jesus Christ; Judas, who hung himself from the guilt of his betrayal. In the Book of Acts, it is said that “Judas left to go where he belongs” euphemising that Judas’ soul was sent to Hell for his sins against God and his son. However, it must be noted that it was the sin of his betrayal that sent Judas to Hell, rather than the act of committing suicide. Despite this, it has been interpreted from this that the sin of suicide was the cause of Judas’ soul being condemned to eternal torture.
The Tudors believed suicide was a “heinousnesse [crime] thereof, it is an offence against God, against the King, and against Nature” must be punished to the highest degree. Those who successfully committed suicide could still be punished after death. A posthumous trial would be held by a coroner’s jury following the death to determine if it was illness, assassination or self-murder that was the cause of death. If convicted, the deceased and their next of kin were punished most severely from having their wealth, lands, debts owed to them (by other people) and other worldly goods forfeited to the Crown. Many families of suicide victims were forced into poverty and public shame, for even those associated with the deceased were treated as if they themselves were guilty of the sin. Suicide victims were denied a proper Christian burial, instead their bodies were buried naked in an unmarked grave with a mere wooden stake to symbolise the grave. No prayers were spoken for the dead and no minister or church involvement was to be found on the day of the funeral.
Despite suicide being considered sinful, it was still an option for those desperate to escape their tragic lives or those who did not believe in God. Exact numbers cannot be given but it is estimated a couple hundred poor souls took their own lives during the Tudor era, risking eternal damnation and their families’ reputations and futures to rid themselves of their troubles.
The burning question is: would the Cardinal have considered this during his tragic downfall?
100%, he would not have. As a man of God, it would have been an unthinkable act to consider committing the ultimate sin of suicide. In the Cardinal’s eyes, God still favoured him and could save him from a tragic fate. It was by sheer misfortune that the Cardinal fell ill on his journey to the Tower and it is entirely possible that the King, having inevitably found him guilty of treason, might have been merciful in giving him a clean death by beheading or hanging rather than more painful, gruesome methods such as being hung, drawn, and quartered.
The Tudors might have benefitted more from having the Cardinal murdered rather than commit suicide, at least this would have been more believable for the death of a man of God.
Season 2:
The Character of George Boleyn:
“If I were you, I'd be more careful about poking fun at people who have the power to hurt you - just friendly advice.”
– George Boleyn

Through various forms of popular culture, such as historical fiction and televised portrayals, the character of George Boleyn has been continually misconstrued and undermined, and nowhere is this more present in season two of Showtime’s The Tudors. Aside from being portrayed as a treacherous, heretical and abusive husband toward his wife Jane Boleyn, claims concerning George Boleyn’s sexuality are demonstrated throughout the show until his eventual death at the end of season two, constructing a maligned representation and legacy for what we have little foundations in historical evidence. Ideas surrounding sexuality were very much alive during the Tudor period, with the first legislation condemning men who participated in same-sex activity was produced. The history of homosexuality is a long and complex one, with many modern-day individuals asserting that same-sex relationships are one of contemporary making, but condemnation stemmed all the way back to Biblical ruling, evidenced in Leviticus 18:22, which commands men to not lie with men, for it is an ‘abomination.’ George Boleyn and his contemporaries would have been well aware of the 1533 Buggery Act and its implications, but there is little to no evidence to suggest that he was ever at risk of being put to the axe under its code.
Synonymous with the ‘power-hungry’ nature of the Boleyn family in popular culture has allowed writers to construct an identity for George that fits comfortably with the defamation of his affinity, especially his father and sister. Thomas Boleyn, his father, has hitherto been portrayed to be an egotistical, ambitious courtier who practically “pimped” his daughter Anne to the king in order to grasp at heightened power, alongside Anne Boleyn, who up until her downfall, is depicted as a manipulative homewrecker. George is portrayed in an extremely similar fashion.
One of the clearest ways this was executed was through his relationship with Jane Boleyn nee Parker, his wife. George and Jane Boleyn married in 1524, an illustrious political marriage that benefitted the Boleyn family significantly. Jane was the daughter of Henry, lord Morley, an influential figure at the court of King Henry VIII. The notion that Jane and George experienced an unhappy marriage is one that has been indicated throughout historiography, particularly by Alison Weir, who argues that Jane Boleyn eventually testified against her husband in 1536 due to disgust in his ‘sexual practices,’ but nowhere is this more prevalent than their onscreen depictions in The Tudors. In the show, George is portrayed as a detestable sexual abuser, who assaults his new wife on their wedding night, ultimately paving the way towards her attestation of guilt against him and Anne in later episodes. However, contrary to the show, there is no historical evidence to indicate that Jane and George had an unhappy marriage.
The fact that records do not leave any note of Jane and George ever having a child, or a pregnancy at all, has acted as the impromptu foundations for historical fiction writers to construct a narrative in order to explain their lack of a child, coming in the form of domestic abuse. Rather than any indication of marital discontent, Jane or George may have had issues with fertility, or experienced pregnancies that have been lost to history. Similarly, the notion that Jane was the principal accuser of her husband and sister-in-law has been one that has been contested in recent years. Whilst Anne Boleyn’s ladies did indeed testify against her, Jane was not the first nor the principal. Jane may have indeed been coerced into providing damning testimony against her in-laws, but the idea that this stemmed from years of abuse at the hands of her husband has been one entirely constructed centuries after the events took place.
Another way in which the character of George Boleyn has been misrepresented is through claims that he was a homosexual, or ‘sodomite.’ Whilst sixteenth-century individuals we can now interpret to be homosexual certainly did exist, there arises a particular issue in that the contemporary terminology we now use today did not exist during the period, and this is made particularly challenging and problematic when there is little basis in the individual participating in same-sex relationships. Additionally supported by isolated scholars, Retha Warnicke argues that George Boleyn participated in relationships with various men. Unsurprisingly, this has been adapted by various forms of popular culture, most explicitly by Philippa Gregory’s The Other Boleyn Girl, which shows George participating in both incest with his sister Anne, and engaging in a homosexual relationship with one of his fellow accused, Francis Weston. In similar fashion, George Boleyn’s depictions in The Tudors indicates that he had an extramarital affair with Mark Smeaton, the court musician who would also fall foul under charges of adultery with Anne Boleyn in 1536.
Warnicke’s theory, which has been employed extensively in literature and television, is based on a number of far-fetched interpretations of primary evidence. The first of these is a poem by Cardinal Wolesy’s gentleman usher, George Cavendish, entitled Metrical Visions. Cavendish’s poem includes a characterisation of courtiers who were executed throughout the reign of King Henry VIII, including George. Acting as a mouthpiece for him, Cavendish writes: ‘My life not chaste, my living bestial, I forced widows, maiden did I deflower. All was one to me, I spared none at all, my appetite was all women to devour […] my unlawful treachery might it fulfil, sparing no women to have her on my will. Alas? To declare my life in every effect shame restrains me the plains to confess, least the abomination would all the world infect: it is so vile, so detestable in words to express for which by the law, condemned I am doubtless.’
At first glance, Cavendish’s representation of George seems to indicate some truth in The Tudor’s depiction of his wedding night, emphasised by the line ‘maiden did I deflower.’ However, contrary to Warnicke’s interpretation, I believe there is no indication that this shows George Boleyn participated in sodomy. Whilst it certainly suggests he was a sexual deviant, nowhere does this suggest he was the former. Similar terminology was employed by Cavendish for other traitors, such as Thomas Culpepper, indicating that this nature of prose was a narrative repeatedly constructed for traitors. Similarly, one has to remember that Cavendish was a confidante of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, the short-lived enemy of the Boleyn faction during the Great Matter, so it is likely Cavendish would have taken any opportunity to defame his master’s rivals.
A book gifted to Mark Smeaton by George Boleyn in 1526 portraying a satire on marriage and its constraints has been used by both historians, and presumptively, the writers of The Tudors, to argue that the two men shared a romantic relationship. What this argument fails to note is that the court during this period was an environment of constant debate, engagement, learning and a sphere to challenge conventional norms of the medieval period, such as marriage. It would have made sense for two individuals who were largely immersed in the Boleyn faction, which had in a short amount of time transformed the Tudor court politically and socially, to share works such as this just as Anne Boleyn had with King Henry VIII. Additionally, this book was engraved with the signatures of multiple courtiers, including Thomas Wyatt. Contrary to the leap of imagination that has been put forward that this sharing of literature was indicative of an intimate relationship, this widely-shared satire of marriage served as another instance of the sharing of unconventional ideas in a constantly shifting time.
George Boleyn’s execution speech upon the scaffold at the Tower of London has also been intermingled by scholars to be indicative of his alleged homosexuality. In his execution speech, George reputedly stated that he deserved ‘to die if [he] had twenty lives, yea even to die with more shame and dishonour than hath ever been heard of before. For I am a wretched sinner, who has grievously and often time offended … nevertheless, I mean not to openly not to relate what my many sins may have been, since it were no pleasure for you to hear them, nor yet me to rehearse, for God knoweth them all.’ Contrary to Warnicke, who suggests that this speech showcases George referring to his engagement in same-sex activity, I argue alternatively that this speech exemplifies the commonplace execution speech of sixteenth-century criminals. Similar to his contemporaries who had been condemned to treason, George did not challenge his conviction and relayed his final, eternal judgement to God. If rumours of George’s buggery had been openly discussed at the Tudor court, as Warnicke suggests, one has to wonder why no record has been left of it, especially by the court’s most informed contemporaries, Eustace Chapuys. Even thereafter his execution, no solidified claims were made concerning George’s supposed preference for men.
To conclude, Showtime’s The Tudors utilised both the unstable and imaginative arguments of historians to forge a misrepresented characterisation of George Boleyn in order to construct another storyline and misconstrue historical accuracy. Whilst it does encourage viewers and historians to challenge how history has always been written, with the lack of concrete evidence to point to the truth, representations of George Boleyn’s sexuality have been inaccurately embodied.
Season 3:
Henry VIII’s First Meeting with Anne of Cleves:
“She is nothing like what was reported to me. Nothing. She looks like a horse! A Flanders mare!”
– Henry VIII

Season three of The Tudors is a season of ups and downs for Henry VIII. It kicks off with his marriage to Jane Seymour, takes us through the unrest of the Pilgrimage of Grace, and midway through the season, Henry gets the long-awaited son he’s been hoping for.
His joy doesn’t last long, though, as Jane Seymour tragically dies shortly after giving birth. Despite having finally produced a living son, high child mortality rates, unrest in the realm, and dynastic security concerns mean that Henry is still feeling the pressure for more sons to secure his legacy (after all, Henry himself was a second son who only came to the throne after his brother’s untimely death). In episode six, Thomas Cromwell asks the king if he could “frame his mind” to another marriage. With the king’s reluctant permission, the search for his next queen begins.
After considering several candidates and admiring the portrait produced by Hans Holbein, Henry’s choice falls to the 24-year-old Anne of Cleves.
Anne began her journey to England in the autumn of 1539, arriving on the shores of Kent on 27th December and then making her way up to Rochester. The plan was to rest there for a few days before travelling to meet the king in Greenwich.
In both The Tudors and real life, Henry couldn’t contain his excitement over Anne’s arrival in England and rode off to Rochester to surprise his betrothed. But what happens next is where the show diverges from reality.
In episode seven of The Tudors, Henry arrives at Rochester and asks a servant to tell Anne that a gentleman has come to see her, bearing a New Year’s gift. He then barges into the room, takes one look at her, and is immediately disappointed. Anne is surprised and confused, but is prompted by one of the men in the room to show reverence. Falling into a deep curtsey, it’s clear that she knows this is the king before her. He gives her a quick kiss, and it seems to catch her off guard as she recoils. Henry then welcomes her to his realm and leaves. After the encounter, Anne is clearly embarrassed and remarks to her ladies that she should have taken more lessons because English manners are so different from what she’s used to.
There are pieces of this awkward encounter that The Tudors gets right -- Henry did ride out early to surprise Anne, barging in on her on New Year’s Day. But it also massively oversimplifies what happened and defaults to the familiar idea that Anne was the “ugly one”.
In the show, Henry declares, “She looks like a horse! A Flanders mare!” This refrain has been passed down throughout history, but there’s no contemporary source backing it up. The first reference comparing Anne to a “Flanders mare” comes from Gilbert Burnet's book The History of the Reformation of the Church of England, published in 1679. The text states:
“There was a rudeness in her, which did not at all please him: he swore they had brought over a Flanders mare to him, and took up an incurable aversion to her.”
While this is traditionally interpreted as a comment on her appearance, a near-contemporary dictionary defines “rudeness” as unpolishedness, sauciness, or ignorance. That interpretation may make more sense in relation to what actually occurred during Anne’s first meeting with Henry VIII rather than being commentary on Anne’s physical appearance.
A key piece that The Tudors ignored was that when Henry burst in on Anne at Rochester, he came to her in disguise. Anne didn’t recognise him. It’s no wonder that she was shocked when a strange man, 24 years her senior, burst in and tried to kiss her! There’s some debate over Anne’s exact reaction: whether she was disgusted and pushed him away or if she was polite but indifferent. But what matters here is that she didn’t recognise him, and this partially boils down to cultural difference.
Henry VIII famously enjoyed chivalric tradition and playing the game of courtly love, including disguised reveals. We see glimpses of this in earlier episodes of The Tudors at the famous Château Vert pageant when Henry first encounters Anne Boleyn and then again when Anne Boleyn is presented to Francis I in France.
The game of courtly love was understood and practised by the members of the English court. In fact, Henry’s disguised surprise for Anne of Cleves was not a unique event; it was a scenario he had played out before with his first wife, Catherine of Aragon. In 1510, Henry and a group of his men burst into the queen’s chamber dressed as Robin Hood and his Merry Men. Catherine was said to be startled by the intrusion, but she understood the game, played along, and dancing and other entertainment followed.
Part of the idea behind this courtly love game was that even with the man in disguise, the lady would be able to recognise her true love instinctively. However, coming from a different court and cultural background, Anne of Cleves was not familiar with the rules of this game and could not have known what reaction was expected of her. This may have been the source of Henry’s disappointment with her.
It may also have been that Anne’s genuine reaction was a mirror for Henry, possibly showing him for the first time in his life how he was truly seen by people who didn’t know him as the king. He was no longer the handsome, Renaissance prince of his youth. This was an even more dangerous game to play: wounding Henry’s pride.
Arguably, the real events that took place during the initial meeting between Henry VIII and Anne of Cleves make a more compelling story than how these events played out in The Tudors. So why was this scene changed? While it might have been due to having to explain the complexities of the situation, it likely simply came down to budget cuts. Seasons one and two each had 10 episodes, while season three was noticeably shorter, with only 8 episodes (and with Anne of Cleves’ marriage being annulled just one episode after it had taken place). When asked in 2009 why season three was shorter than the others, executive producer Michael Hirst said it came down to “the collapse of the dollar.”
Budget constraints may explain the oversimplification, but the version The Tudors chose to tell reinforces the centuries-old idea that Anne’s appearance was the problem. The reality is far more interesting: perhaps the problem at Rochester wasn’t Anne at all, but Henry’s expectations of how she should respond to him.
Season 4:
The Death of Henry VIII: The Tudors Compared with History:
“Poor Katherine Howard. She lies in the cold ground next to me. Poor child.”
– Anne Boleyn, The Tudors.

As mentioned in the introduction, the TV show, The Tudors, has been known to change details of historical events to make them more entertaining. One event they dramatised was the death of Henry VIII in the final episode, "Death of a Monarchy." This is the event I will explore by explaining how The Tudors portrayed it and then what actually happened. One thing we should mention is that we do not see Henry die in the show. However, the show does show us how his health was getting worse and the time in which it was happening which was January 1547. The Tudors shows a simplified version of Henry's final illness, but the real cause of his death remains uncertain. Historical evidence suggests that Henry's long-term health problems, including severe leg ulcers, obesity, limited mobility, and possible heart problems, all contributed to his decline.
In The Tudors, Henry is portrayed as an increasingly weak and elderly king who is aware that he is approaching his death. We see how his health has gotten worse, and the question of who will succeed him is raised. He did have a son and heir, Edward, but he was not yet eighteen and was deemed too young to rule, so he needed a Protector to guide him. He is also visited by the ghosts of his first three wives which will be explored later in this article. The episode ends with Henry approving a portrait of himself as a powerful and youthful king which is establishing part of his legacy. Therefore, the episode presents his death as the end of an era and focuses as much on his emotional state and legacy as well as his health.
One of the ways The Tudors does not accurately portray Henry's death is his appearance. Although the actor who played Henry, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, was made to look older and less healthy during the later seasons, the real Henry was considerably larger in the final years of his life. Historical evidence shows that Henry had become extremely obese and was unable to walk normally. His worsening condition was partly connected to the serious problems with his legs, which prevented him from exercising.
Another inaccuracy is the portrayal of Charles Brandon. In The Tudors, Brandon is shown dying shortly before Henry, allowing the two old friends to have an emotional final meeting. However, Charles Brandon actually died in August 1545. Therefore, this meeting could not have happened and has been added for dramatic purposes. It could be argued that it was added to give Henry a final emotional farewell with one of the people who had been close to him throughout his life.
The series also changes what happened with Henry's succession arrangements. In the series, Henry appears to appoint Edward Seymour (his son's uncle) as Protector for the young Prince Edward. However, Henry's will named a group of executors to govern during Edward's minority. This was likely done to avoid one man gaining too much power over Edward. Nevertheless, Edward Seymour did become extremely powerful after Henry's death.
The main part that has been added for dramatic purposes is when Henry is visited by the ghosts of his first three wives. The first to visit him is Catherine of Aragon, his first wife, and she warns him about how he has abandoned their child, Mary, stating that she should have been married by now. It is forcing Henry to look back on the decisions he has made before his death. Catherine finishes by saying she is Henry's only and true wife. The second wife to visit him is Anne Boleyn, his second wife, and she reminds him about Elizabeth, their child. Henry said he wishes he could love Elizabeth more, but tells Anne that Elizabeth reminds him of her and how she betrayed him. Anne protests her innocence and how she thought Henry knew. She also mentions Catherine Howard and how she is lying in the cold ground next to her. She says how Catherine was a victim of Henry, just like her. The last wife to visit him is Jane Seymour, his third wife, and mother to his son. Jane warns that Edward will die young. This upsets Henry especially when his final moments are coming.
When it comes to the exact cause of Henry's death, we cannot say with certainty what killed him due to there being no proper medical equipment back then. However, historians say that Henry suffered from serious health problems for many years, and the most significant one was his leg ulcer. He suffered with this after a serious jousting accident in January 1536, where he was thrown from his horse and was unconscious for a short time. His legs were badly injured, and the ulcers that developed afterwards repeatedly became infected and failed to heal properly. By the final years of his life, his legs were severely swollen, and he could no longer walk without assistance. Obesity and heart problems may also have contributed to his declining health. What we do know is that Henry died at Whitehall Palace on 28th January 1547, aged fifty-five. His nine-year-old son, Edward, succeeded him as Edward VI.
Overall, The Tudors does highlight how Henry was seriously ill, but also adds dramatic effect to the end of his life. The visiting of the ghosts, the portrayal of Charles Brandon, and the changing of succession arrangements are used to do this. Therefore, we should see it as an exaggerated presentation of his death. However, we must remember that the real Henry VIII suffered with his health caused by a range of factors, and this eventually led to his death.
References for Cardinal Thomas Wolsey:
Cardinal Wolsey by Mandell Creighton.
Exodus 20:13.
Matthew 4:5-7.
Psalm 91:11-12.
The Doctrine of the Christian Life by John Frame.
References for George Boleyn:
The Anne Boleyn Files, ‘George Boleyn’s Sexuality,’ (2012), Accessed at: George Boleyn's Sexuality - The Anne Boleyn Files
George Cavendish, Metrical Versions, The Life of Cardinal Wolsey, Vol. II
Leviticus 18:22
Retha Warnicke, The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn: Family Politics at the Court of Henry VIII, (1989).
References for Henry VIII and Anne of Cleves:
English Heritage, “Henry VIII and Anne of Cleves: Journey to a Doomed Marriage?” (2017).
Benjamin Norton Defoe, A New English Dictionary, Containing a Collection of Words in the English Language, Properly Explain’d and Alphabetically Dispos’d (1735).
Easton, H. (2026), “Was Anne of Cleves Really the ‘Flanders Mare’ That History Will Have Us Believe, or Did Henry VIII Rewrite the Story to Protect His Ego?”, Discover Britain.
Historic Royal Palaces, “Anne of Cleves: The Great Survivor.”
Kimball, T. (2009), “The Tudors: Showtime Series Ending After Year Four, No Season Five”, TV Series Finale.
Ridgway, C. (2016), “18 January 1510 – Henry VIII Dresses Up”, The Tudor Society.
Gilbert Burnet, An Abridgment of Bishop Burnet’s History of the Reformation of the Church of England, Vol. I (1819), p. 163.
References for Henry VIII:
Chalmers, C. R. and Chaloner, E. J. (2009), “500 years later: Henry VIII, leg ulcers and the course of history”, Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine.
Historic Royal Palaces, “Henry VIII: Terrible Tudor?”
Harrison, H. (2017), “Media Review – Historical Inaccuracies in The Tudors Season 4”, TudorBlogger.
Shorland, S. (2024), “What's Wrong with Henry VIII?”, History Today
The Tudors, Season 4, Episode 10, “Death of a Monarchy”, written by Michael Hirst and directed by Ciarán Donnelly (2010).
The National Archives, “The will of Henry VIII”



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