Let’s talk about what he ate. The man devoured 5000+ calories a day. Every meal was a parade of meat pies, swan, venison, and a literal gallon of wine.
He’d get constipated from all that meat. Then he’d take laxatives—the 16th-century equivalent of drinking jet fuel. His gut was a warzone.
Doctors back then were useless. They told him to eat less, but he definitely didn’t listen. They’d bleed him with leeches, which just made him weaker. It’s like trying to fix a car by setting it on fire.
Henry VIII | PPT
Enter the “Melted” Legs
In 1547, his legs took a turn for the worst. One of the ulcers grew a raging infection. We’re talking green pus, redness up to his hip, the whole horror show.
He got a fever. A hot, sweaty, “I-am-literally-burning-alive” fever. Remember, there was no penicillin. No antibiotics. Just “pray harder” and “drink this herbal sludge.”
By late January, he couldn’t even sit up. His breathing got shallow. He was drowning in his own girth. Not a glamorous exit for a guy who changed religion.
