Cold Open

It’s January 31st, 1606, in London, England.

In a yard in the shadow of the Houses of Parliament, Guy Fawkes shuffles forward toward his death. A bonfire is burning, giving off thick and putrid smoke. Thousands of jeering people crowd every available space, eager to watch the gory spectacle that's to come.

Fawkes' bound hands tremble, and his legs are so weak he can barely stand—let alone walk. But the guards behind him jab at him with their pikes every time he slows down. So he drags himself on.

The cobblestones at his feet are slick with blood—a grim reminder of the three executions that have already taken place today. All the men were traitors, convicted for their part in the Gunpowder Plot. But the authorities have saved the most infamous of the plotters for last.

Nearly three months ago, 35-year-old Guy Fawkes was caught beneath the Houses of Parliament along with dozens of barrels of gunpowder. His plan was to blow up King James I and the rest of the English government. But his plot failed. Since then, Fawkes has faced torture and interrogation. And now he and his co-conspirators must pay the price for their crimes. The thick smoke clears for a moment, and Fawkes gets his first look at the gallows. The masked executioner stands beside a ladder propped up against the scaffold. To a roar from the crowd, he grabs Fawkes and forces the noose down over his head. He tightens the knot at Fawkes' neck. And then, with a jerk of his head, he orders Fawkes up the ladder.

But this is just the first part of Fawkes' execution. He will be hanged until he’s barely conscious, then castrated and cut open. His entrails will be burned on a fire in front of him. Then finally, he’ll be beheaded, and his body chopped into four quarters. As Fawkes climbs the ladder, his eyes land on the dismembered bodies tumbled together in a wagon beside the scaffold—the remains of his dead comrades. With a sudden resolve, his tired body straightens. Then suddenly, Fawkes jumps off the ladder. The hangman grabs for the rope, but it’s too late.

The noose snaps taut around Fawkes' neck.

Swearing angrily, the hangman cuts Fawkes down at once, but from the limp body, he can tell Fawkes is already dead. By leaping from the ladder, Guy Fawkes has broken his own neck—and escaped the most agonizing part of his punishment.

Guy Fawkes' Gunpowder Plot has been the talk of London for months—and one man has been paying especially close attention. William Shakespeare will channel the capital’s fevered atmosphere into his work, and in a matter of months, he will debut three new plays that will explore the nature of power and betrayal. It will be a remarkable year of creativity for Shakespeare, one that will culminate in a performance in front of James I himself, on December 26th, 1606.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham, and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is December 26th, 1606: King Lear’s Royal Premiere.

Act One: A Walking Shadow

It’s July 25, 1603, on the River Thames in London, two years before Guy Fawkes is executed for treason.

From his gilded royal barge, King James I of England peers out at the cheering crowd lining the riverbank. It’s coronation day in the capital, and hundreds of people have braved an unseasonable rainstorm to catch a glimpse of the country’s new king.

Three months ago, Queen Elizabeth I died at the age of 69. With no children and no surviving siblings, the English crown passed to her distant cousin, James, who was already the king of Scotland. So, for the first time in history, one monarch now rules both kingdoms.

But James’s arrival in England has been far from triumphant. Plague is tearing through London. Churches, taverns, and theaters have already been closed. And now, even the king’s coronation has been stripped of its usual pageantry.

So James is secretly pleased that many Londoners have ignored the proclamation ordering them to stay away from the festivities. Even when he reaches the ancient Westminster Abbey, he can hear them outside. And it brings some cheer to the cavernous church, which is almost empty for the ceremony.

As king, James intends to change many things in England. But there's at least one thing he plans to keep the same. Queen Elizabeth’s reign was a golden era for literature and the arts, and James wants that to continue. That's why, just weeks after he became king, he issued a special proclamation, making himself the patron of the Lord Chamberlain's Men, the most famous theater company in the land. The newly renamed “King's Men” don't just boast some of the best actors in London; one of its leading members is the greatest writer of the age.

William Shakespeare has written dozens of plays, from comedies like Much Ado About Nothing to tragedies like Romeo and Juliet, and his brooding masterpiece Hamlet.

And King James expects the King's Men to perform Shakespeare’s plays for him at court. But the latest outbreak of plague must subside first. So, when his low-key coronation concludes, King James withdraws to the safety of the countryside at Hampton Court Palace to wait for the sickness to pass. At its height that summer, the plague kills more than three thousand people every week in the capital. London’s population is only 200,000. So, it feels like death is everywhere. But as fall approaches, the plague finally begins to burn itself out. The death toll drops, and London cautiously reopens. When it does, James is eager for fresh entertainment and summons the King’s Men to court. Over the next year, the company stages several of its most popular plays for a royal audience. The king is especially taken with The Merchant of Venice, enjoying it so much that he demands the company return and perform it again.

But by 1605, the King’s Men have exhausted most of their back catalog. And need something new for their royal patron. Their writer's struggling, though. In the past, Shakespeare wrote three or four plays a year, as well as sonnets and narrative poems. But since James came to the throne, he’s only finished two plays—and neither are among his best.

What Shakespeare needs is inspiration—and he finds it in a London bookstore. In late summer 1605, he picks up a copy of an old play called The True Chronicle of King Leir. He doesn’t think it’s very good. In fact, it’s the kind of play he’s mocked in his own works for its labored rhymes and old-fashioned style. But there’s something about the play that speaks to him.

The Leir story is an old myth that dates back to at least the 12th century. It’s about an ancient ruler of Britain who divides his kingdom between three daughters. And the play Shakespeare picks up in his local bookstore is mostly concerned with royal succession—who would be king or queen next was a hot topic in England when the childless Queen Elizabeth was on the throne. That’s not so important now. King James is still a relatively young man, and, with two sons and several daughters, the line of succession is secure. But there’s another question raised by the story of King Leir. And it’s suddenly very topical.

Ever since King James arrived in London, he’s made no secret of his desire to unite his two crowns and make England and Scotland into one kingdom.

Such a union seems like an obvious idea to James. But it’s a more challenging one for his subjects in England and Scotland. The king’s proposal stirs up questions about what nationality even means, and the differences and similarities between two people who share an island but have been bitter enemies for centuries.

Many on both sides of the border find the discussion uncomfortable. But it’s great material for a writer. So, Shakespeare begins work on his own version of the King Leir story. The myth about a divided kingdom is perfect for exploring James’ proposed Union. And although Shakespeare’s Lear character is driven mad after carving up his lands, he doesn’t provide any clean-cut answers, and he doesn’t say directly whether he approves of James’ idea or not. Instead, he just asks searching questions about the nature of authority, identity, and power.

But while Shakespeare is putting the final touches on his new play, another drama is just beginning. One that will threaten the life of King James himself—and inspire William Shakespeare to write one of the greatest plays of all time.

Act Two: New Heaven, New Earth

It’s February 1st, 1609, in London, England, a few weeks after William Shakespeare finished King Lear.

In his rooms, the 41-year-old Shakespeare dips his quill into an inkpot as the distant calls of a town crier drift through his window. He tries to stay focused on his work and the page in front of him, but the news the crier brings is impossible to ignore—yesterday, Guy Fawkes, the last of the Gunpowder Plotters, was put to death for treason.

The attempt by disaffected Catholic noblemen to kill King James I and seize control of the English government has failed, but the entire country has been left in a state of paranoia. Years ago, many feared that the death of the childless Queen Elizabeth would lead to either a civil war or a foreign invasion. The peaceful transition of power to King James was a welcome surprise. But now all those old worries have come rushing back. There are constant rumors about uprisings and new assassination plots, and the government has launched a crackdown on the English Catholics whose loyalty to the crown is suspect.

So, even though Guy Fawkes and his co-conspirators are now all dead, in many ways the story of the Gunpowder Plot is still unfolding. And William Shakespeare has been inspired to write about it.

The result is Macbeth, a tale of betrayal, paranoia, and madness, in which a king is murdered, and once good men commit awful crimes.

Shakespeare has delved into the history of King James' homeland and based his play on the life of a real Scottish king from the 11th century. But at the same time, Shakespeare has made the story all his own. He’s added witches and strange visions, and in Lady Macbeth, he’s created one of his most complex female characters. For weeks, he’s been working feverishly, writing and rewriting his manuscript, sharpening its themes of betrayal, deception, and madness.

And now, with a stroke of his quill, Shakespeare writes the last words and leans back in his chair. It’s finished, at last. And now, his troupe of actors, the King’s Men, just need to learn it.

Rehearsals take weeks. The King's Men are still performing Shakespeare’s old plays at the same time they're learning this new one. But all their hard work pays off.

When Macbeth opens at the Globe Theater in the spring of 1606, audiences are spellbound. They watch, captivated, as Macbeth murders King Duncan and seizes the Scottish throne, only to spiral into self-destructive paranoia.

Shakespeare’s tale of ambition and betrayal is soon hailed as one of his best plays yet. But he doesn’t stop there. His burst of creativity continues, and he returns to his writing desk to start yet another new play—Antony and Cleopatra. This one is a very different play to Macbeth. It’s set in Ancient Rome, not medieval Scotland, and is a story of tragic love, not treachery. But still it’s another masterpiece. Just over a year ago, some may have wondered whether Shakespeare’s best days were behind him. But now he’s written three of his greatest tragedies in only a matter of months.

Antony and Cleopatra debuts at the Globe Theater in November 1606. A few weeks later, it’s performed at the Royal Court. But the greatest triumph of William Shakespeare’s fertile year still lies ahead—a performance of one of his new plays before the king himself on the Feast of St. Stephen.

And this performance on December 26th is the most important of the year—it opens the Christmas season at court. But it’s not Macbeth or Antony and Cleopatra that’s chosen for this special occasion. Instead, the royal audience will be watching King Lear. 

But a lot has changed since Shakespeare wrote the play. By now, King James’ dream of an Anglo-Scottish Union seems dead in the water. And despite several attempts to convince the English and Scottish parliaments to make him “King of Great Britain”, resistance to the idea has only grown.

So, with the aftershocks of the Gunpowder Plot still casting a shadow, the court will not be a merry place this Christmas. And William Shakespeare doesn’t know how the king will react to his story of a nation divided and a ruler driven mad by failure.

Act Three: Sharper than a Serpent's Tooth

It’s December 26th, 1606, at the Palace of Whitehall in London, 11 months after the execution of Guy Fawkes.

William Shakespeare watches from the shadows as his play King Lear reaches its dramatic finale. On stage, the actor playing Lear weeps over the body of his daughter Cordelia.

When the myth of Leir is usually told, the story ends with the king reclaiming his throne and reconciling with Cordelia. But when Shakespeare came to write his version, he did away with that happy ending. Now, he wants to see how his royal audience reacts to a much darker ending.

He tries not to stare, but he can see King James gripping the golden armrests of his chair as he watches. On-stage, the actor playing Lear cradles Cordelia’s lifeless body. Then, overcome with grief, he suddenly collapses dead to the ground, succumbing to a broken heart.

A few moments later, the play comes to an end. After the final line fades, the actors on stage rise slowly from the floor. The room is silent, everyone waiting for the king’s reaction.

Shakespeare watches him too. But James sits motionless. For a moment, he seems to wrestle with what the ending means. But then he begins to applaud. And the rest of the court follows.

Shakespeare breathes a sigh of relief and joins in, too.

Exactly what King James really thinks of King Lear is never revealed. But it’s clear the performance has had an impact at court and beyond. When King Lear is published the following year, this Christmas performance and its royal audience will be recorded on its title page. No other Shakespeare play will ever receive the same honor.

And for Shakespeare, the performance at court marks the end of one of the most extraordinary years of his life. Over the previous 12 months, he’s delivered three new masterpieces: King Lear, Macbeth, and Antony and Cleopatra. All three products of their age responding to the dramatic events that Shakespeare witnessed in 1606. But the plays will also transcend that moment in time. Their themes of revenge, love, power, and betrayal will never go stale. For hundreds of years to come, the plays will continue to be performed on stages all around the world. But few will ever carry the weight of anticipation or scrutiny as the royal premiere of King Lear on December 26th, 1606.

Outro

Next on History Daily. December 29th, 1170. Archbishop Thomas Becket becomes a martyr after he is brutally killed by four knights in Canterbury Cathedral.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mollie Baack.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Angus Gavan McHarg.

Edited by Scott Reeves.

Managing producer Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.