Beyond Death

So… sit back and get comfortable, because we all know Henry VIII, right?

A big, burly man… red hair… six wives, a split-in-two England, and an appetite for power (and food) that would make any living—or dead—human pale in comparison…? Got the image? Good!

But perhaps few remember that before him, there was his grandfather…

“And who was his grandfather?” you might be wondering. “Didn’t Henry VIII just appear out of nowhere, like a god descending from Mount Olympus?”

Well, no. Sadly, he didn’t appear out of nowhere! (In some ways, it might’ve been better that way… but oh well.)

Henry VIII was the son of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York.

Elizabeth of York was the daughter of Edward IV, so (hey! Are you still with me? Yes?)… Edward IV was Henry VIII’s maternal grandfather.

Now that we’ve established that and mapped out the dynasty, let’s get back to our story…

At first glance, the two don’t seem to have much in common (even their names were different), but… upon closer inspection, there’s a striking, almost uncanny resemblance, in both looks and personality, between grandfather and grandson.

We can clearly say that Henry VIII was nothing more than a supercharged — and more dramatic, version of Grandpa Edward IV.

You know the saying: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree… especially when the tree is six-foot-three and seduces everything that breathes.

Let’s start with their looks… cover-boy material at first, then something… happened.
Young Edward IV was breathtaking: tall, handsome, charismatic, described as “an Adonis in armor.”
The chronicles adored him almost as much as the ladies did. In fact, he practically married them all… oops! Spoiler! Sorry!

Young Henry VIII was the darling of the court: athletic, lean, with copper-blond hair, grey eyes, and that proud look of someone who could charm anyone!
Both of them, in their youth, were seductive, strapping, with a killer sex appeal. Then… well, then they ballooned. Nobody knows exactly why.
Uncontrollably. To excess.

Edward IV and Henry VIII were both victims of their vices: food, women… they ate and loved without restraint, and this, eventually, led them both to their deaths.

But let’s keep going…

Edward IV collected mistresses like trophies.

His marriage to Elizabeth Woodville, a widow and “commoner”, shook the nobility to its core. (And let’s not even mention Eleanor Butler, whose name practically brought down the whole noble class!)

Henry, on the other hand, turned marriage into a tragic art form: six wives, two divorces, two beheadings, one dying in agony, and one survivor.

Both had a string of illegitimate children (but let’s not dwell on that, or we’ll be here all day).

Where Edward whispered, Henry shouted.

Same ego, same charm, but with more drama than a soap opera.

Edward lost and won back his crown, like a Netflix series before television was even invented.

Henry VIII, meanwhile, never had to wield a sword, he fought with laws, religion, and sheer terror.

One broke lances, the other broke the Church.

In both cases, no one dared stand in their way. No one and nothing, except, perhaps, themselves.

Henry never met his grandfather, but it’s as if he carried him in his genetic code all along.

Edward IV and Henry VIII are two sides of the same mirror:

The grandfather with dangerous charm and a wandering eye;

The grandson with fury, a hammer, and a few heads less by the end of his reign.

Maybe, if Edward had lived a bit longer, he could’ve taught Henry that you can have it all… without burning everything to the ground.

And maybe Henry would’ve told him that yes, you can divorce one woman before marrying another…

And who cares if that means breaking away from the Catholic Church? Details, mere details!

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