This episode is about what happened when Henry VIII died in 1547 and left the crown to his nine-year-old son, Edward VI.

Everyone knows Henry broke with Rome so he could swap Catherine of Aragon for Anne Boleyn. Fewer people know what he thought he was doing to the religion of England. Mostly, he thought he wasn't doing much at all. Catholicism without the Pope, business as usual. If you ignore the land grab that was the dissolution of the monasteries.

Henry had set up a nicely balanced council to run things for his son. The balance barely survived the funeral, after which the king's uncle Edward Seymour made himself Lord Protector. Then the Protector's brother Thomas decided the best way to advance himself was by bribing the boy king with pocket money, marrying Henry's widow and groping (quite literally) his way towards treason via the Princess Elizabeth's bedroom. Once he turned his hand to minting his own coins he was executed.

Meanwhile the religion of England was being turned upside down. Edward, far from being a passive child, was a precocious little zealot (the 'godly imp', as one admirer put it). Out went purgatory, the statues, the holy water and, biggest of all, the Latin Mass, replaced by a prayer book in good plain English. Not everyone was on board. A Devon parish sat through the new service and then told the priest to go back and do it again properly, in Latin this time. Within weeks the south west was in open rebellion while Norfolk had risen over enclosures. So the government brought in German and Italian mercenaries to, er, smooth things over. The Protector got the blame, largely for having tried to address the complaints rather than just killing everyone. He was understandably overthrown in a coup and went to the block in 1552.

Peter Marshall is a terrific guest. His history of the English Reformation, Heretics and Believers, won the Wolfson Prize and I can't recommend it highly enough.

By the end of this episode Protestant England looks unstoppable. Only one small problem. Edward has developed a cough. But this is only part one. Part two is Mary, and she thinks it is entirely stoppable.

In part 2 of the story the hero finally arrives. Coxinga. Loyal subject of the Ming emperor or disobedient child? 

Coxinga is the son of Nicholas Iquan who made the journey from outlaw trader/pirate to Ming admiral. Iquan must have bitterly regretted his decision to give Coxinga the education of a Confucian scholar. While the rest of the family weighs how to deal with the invading Manchus in a thoroughly pragmatic manner, the high minded Coxinga is having none of it.

This episode tells the story of Coxinga's fight against the Manchu, against the Dutch and against his own father.

Jonathan Clements is back to talk about Coxinga and the Fall of the Ming Dynasty, a tale so convoluted that its hero only gets born at the end of episode one! What happened in 17th century China for the Manchu invaders to just roll on in and take over? Includes thoughts on the benefits of spattering yourself in mud and risking tetanus, Manchu purges likened to "playing whack-a-mole with human beings", why Chinese people are scared of Slough, and the rebellious nature of haircuts.

Armand D'Angour (Professor of Classics at Oxford University and Fellow of Jesus College) gives his take on Chrisopher Nolan's Odyssey and (more to the point) talks about the poem and the poet. Along the way we talk about Emily Wilson's blistering review (which is where the title of this episode comes from). And Armand gives some readings from the poem including this gem of a translation by Alexander Pope (lightly reworked by Armand):

Abandoned in neglect poor Argos lay,  
unhoused, uncared for, on the public way; 
and where the heaps of rank manure were spread  
a-swarm with fleas, he made his filthy bed.   

As they conversing to the city drew,
the faithful dog his ancient master knew:  
and recognising well his voice and tread,  
pricked up his ears and raised his heavy head.  

Seeing Odysseus, him he strove to meet,
and tried in vain to crawl and lick his feet;  
but strength alone he had to wag his tail 
to greet his master, though to no avail. 

Deep pity touched Odysseus to his soul, 
and down his cheek a tear unbidden stole;  
but unperceived he turned his head, and dried  
the falling drop, while silently he cried.  

"What sorry beast in this abandoned state,” 
he asks, “lies helpless at Odysseus’ gate?  
His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise.  
I warrant such a hound saw better days.”

To him the older man his head inclined 
and said: “He served one of a noble kind – 
now long since perished on a distant shore – 
who will, alas, behold him nevermore.

You should have seen dear Argos bold and young,  
swift as a stag, and as a lion strong!  
Now time has sapped him, with his master lost 
and many years on stormy oceans tossed."

So said Eumaeus, and strode on ahead;  
and faithful Argos dropped his tired head. 
Though twenty long and dismal years had passed,  
he’d lived to see his lord again at last. 

Now night descends upon his weary eyes: 
he wags his feeble tail for joy, and dies. 

At the start of WW2 the U-Boat threat gave the British sleepless nights. But even during the Happy Time (of which there were two) when ships were being sunk at a terrific rate the German effort was too little, too late. And then the war in the Atlantic turned against them and their casualties soared and successes became rarer.

Roger Moorhouse has written a terrific book discussing all this (and much more), 'Wolfpack: Inside Hitler's U-Boat War' where he looks the campaign from the German point of view, using diaries, letters and other records from the time.

We got through a lot in this  episode. Amongst the horrible waste of it all there were some grimly amusing moments, not least the sinking of a U-Boat thanks to a malfunctioning toilet. 

Very interesting to me was how the U-Boat men generally tried to fight an 'honourable' war. That was very different to what I had understood to be the case and certainly very different to how the war was conducted on other fronts.

And above all the stink. The terrible, terrible U-Boat stink.

This one is about Gabriele D'Annunzio. Italian poet, born in 1863 . . . I can already sense your attention drifting. But hang in there! 

A more lurid description would be that he is the poet who seduced over a thousand women. It is still puzzling exactly what women saw in him. As one bewildered woman said:

"I have just met D'Annunzio. Can this be the man the great Duse loved? He is small, he is bald, and his teeth are in three different colours."

(The great Duse here being Eleonora Duse, the most famous actress of the age.)

When war broke out in 1914 Italy very sensibly stayed out of it. But D'Annunzio loved the thought of Italy at war and the blood sacrifice it would involve. So he wrote article after article and eventually returned to Italy, where he gave speech after speech demanding war and encouraging cheering crowds to lynch the peace-lovers in government. He got his way and Italy joined the war in 1915.

The war, of course, was a catastrophe.

 In fairness to D'Annunzio, he didn't just preach war, he participated. Despite being in his fifties he forced his way in (much to the concern of the government, who thought him more useful as a propagandist than as a corpse). As part of this he flew numerous bombing missions. And ever the poet, when they finally developed a plane strong enough to get him to Vienna he took the opportunity to drop pamphlets he had composed urging them to throw off the Austro-Hungarian imperial yoke and ending:

"Today I drop words; next time I will drop bombs."

One reason for his love of the war was his belief that Italy was incomplete. Unification had left outside it cities on the Dalmatian coast that many thought were basically Italian (their many non-Italian residents disagreed, of course). So when the Allies treated their Italy with contempt at the peace talks, D'Annunzio decided to act. With a few followers, swelled to thousands by deserting Italian troops, he marched into Fiume, which he ruled as a sort of dictator. The occupation was both comedic and tragic. But the really important thing was the style of the dictatorship. Almost every night D'Annunzio would appear on the balcony giving speeches in a style we'd now instantly recognise as fascist. Meanwhile the real fascists, Mussolini in particular, were watching and thinking ‘This is great, I could use this!’.

My guest was Lucy Hughes-Hallett, and her biography of D'Annunzio, The Pike, won the Samuel Johnson Prize. And this episode is terrific!

Professor Donald Rayfield picks up Crimea’s story in spring 1942, when Germany turns south for the Black Sea and oil. Some Tartars can't imagine anyone worse than Stalin. Some can't imagine anyone worse than Hitler. Tragically, they are both right though in different ways.

Donald explains the realities of the German occupation, from the early “orderly” phase to the arrival of SS units whose mission is extermination of the Jews. Astonishingly some Jews are spared as the ever 'scientific' Nazis rule they are not Jews at all. 

Then comes one of the great crimes of world history. Stalin decides to deport the entire Crimean Tatar nation to Central Asia. Donald tells the story of the cattle trains, the scale of death and the uncertain welcome for survivors in Uzbekistan. Crimea itself is stripped of Tatar presence through renamed towns and seized homes. 

We bring things up to date with the 1990s return and the brief cultural revival under Ukraine . But the post-2014 Russian annexation brings renewed repression. As Donald says 'History can always get worse'. 

It is a fascinating episode.

Donald Rayfield returns for the second of three episodes on Crimea — this time taking the long view, from the Mongol Golden Horde to Catherine the Great's annexation and the early Soviet period.

At its height the Crimean Khanate was a sophisticated and surprisingly humane state. It was also, as Rayfield puts it, the self-appointed freeholder of the former Mongol empire — and it collected its rents in the form of money, livestock, and human captives. Eventually, the leaseholders rebelled.

A story of revival after disaster, and disaster after revival, ending in the grim absorption of the peninsula into the Russian imperial project.

Along the way we admire the fighting skills of the Tatars and learn about a mysterious shop in Venice which would sell you poisoned almonds!

The subject today comes out of the Crimean war (1853-1856).

I talked to Professor Donald Rayfield, Emeritus Professor of Russian and Georgian history at Queen Mary University of London, about the war itself and in particular what happened to those taken prisoner.  Surprisingly life could be pretty good!

Part 1 of the podcast told the sad story of how some shocking misjudgements on the part of Justinian saw him dragged to the Hippodrome where a man with a pair of pliers cut off his nose, cut out his tongue.

But in a misjudgement every bit as big as Justinian’s instead of putting him in a sack and throwing him in the Bosphorus his successor exiles him to the Crimea. I mean everyone knows you can't be emperor unless you are bodily intact so there is no chance he is coming back is there? Is there?

Well there is if Justinian has anything to do with it. Russell Crowe style he will have his revenge in this world or the next! Even if it does mean he has to marry a Turkic princess to get it.

And if all that isn't enough the brilliant David Parnell explains Justinian's religious policies. All very sensible. Well apart from his plot to kidnap the pope perhaps.

If you enjoy the episode don't forget to leave a review on iTunes!

Justinian II becomes emperor at sixteen. Even allowing for the hostility of our sources the reign is not all plain sailing.

I'm joined by Professor David Parnell to work through the first half of one of Byzantium's most extraordinary reigns. Part one takes us from his accession to the moment the city loses patience and terminates the reign violently. David and I are left scratching our heads as to why this story has never had its own Netflix series.

We started with the empire Justinian inherits, which is much smaller than the one his famous namesake Justinian I assembled. Two generations of Arab expansion and some energetic Slavic settlement have done their work. Constantinople and Anatolia are doing fine. Greece and the Balkans are a mess. The Arab caliphate is slightly distracted by civil wars but still very much a threat on the eastern frontier, having already put Constantinople itself under siege in the 670s. We talk about that siege, the role Greek fire played in saving the city, and why all this matters for understanding both what Justinian thinks he can achieve and his overconfidence.

Then we get into the reign itself. Justinian is pious, bold and occasionally effective but capable of the most disastrous misjudgements. So it starts well and then starts to unravel!