With the appearance of Chris Given-Wilson's Henry IV, the English Monarchs series, published by Yale since 1997, now has titles for every crowned English king from the Conquest to the Reformation, with the sole exception of Henry III (1216–72). Given-Wilson's book fills the chronological gap between Nigel Saul's Richard II (1997) and Christopher Allmand's Henry V (1992), two kings who, historically, have overshadowed the subject of the book under review here. The English Monarchs series seeks to publish authoritative biographies by accomplished senior academics; Given-Wilson, emeritus professor at the University of St. Andrews and author of numerous works, is certainly qualified on that front. Henry IV stands as the culmination of a long and successful career and represents a detailed and illuminating investigation of its subject.
Given-Wilson wisely begins his book with a short history of the vast Lancastrian patrimony in the north of England, for that is cause of so much that was to follow. By the late fourteenth century, it was the closest thing that England had to an autonomous, continental-style duchy—indeed, Henry of Grosmont, earl of Lancaster, became England's second-ever duke in 1351, and he was granted palatine powers for Lancashire. But Richard II (r. 1377–99) viewed the existence of the duchy, and the affinity that Grosmont's heir John of Gaunt assiduously cultivated, as a major impediment to his own kingship. So when Gaunt died in 1399, the temptation was too great: contrary to his promises, Richard seized the Lancastrian estates, thereby dispossessing Gaunt's heir, his son Henry Bolingbroke.
This move, and Richard's subsequent visit to Ireland, turned out to be tactical errors. Henry, whom Richard had exiled in 1398, returned in order to claim what was rightfully his—or so he said—and immediately reaped the benefit of the Lancastrian affinity, which rose up in favor of its new (and in its view, rightful) lord. A preference cascade ensued, with Henry collecting more and more support as he traveled through England; Richard returned from Ireland but was cornered, tricked into surrendering, and then forced to relinquish the throne to Henry, who was crowned King Henry IV on October 13, 1399. Not that the Lancastrians put it that way: Henry was very eager to publicize that Richard had voluntarily resigned, although after the failure of the Epiphany Rising of 1400, the former king was done away with (likely starved to death, although the report was that he starved himself), his dead body repeatedly displayed for all to see.
Scholarship on the Lancastrian revolution often takes sides. Traditionally, historians have followed Lancastrian propaganda in seeing Richard II as a tyrant and Henry as a liberator. More recently, a counternarrative has developed, claiming that Richard was not so bad, and Henry a cunning and perjuring usurper. Henry IV leaves one with the impression that no one was a hero: yes, Richard II was arbitrary and tyrannical, but so were the Appellants who sought to rein him in in the 1380s—and so was Henry himself, as he needed to be. Given-Wilson insists that 1399 did not represent an important reason that England later failed to become absolute monarchy; in fact, Henry's kingship benefited from Richard's buildup of it. Henry, however, was simply more astute than Richard, cultivating an image of Christian piety and chivalric prowess; breaking his word judiciously, propagandizing mendaciously (and effectively); being stingy, at least with the granting of titles' not helping himself to his subjects' patrimonies; and in general “keeping his friends close and his enemies afraid” (531). In other words, a century before Machiavelli, Henry was well aware of some practical ways to retain his throne in tough times.
And tough they were. Henry's dependence on the Lancastrian affinity meant that many subjects felt excluded from power, and bad harvests, financial problems, and the persistent rumor that Richard II was still alive prompted many of them to rebel against the king: Owain Glyn Dwr, Henry “Hotspur” Percy, and Archbishop Scrope were only the most famous. The decisive Battle of Shrewsbury (1403) should have ended the opposition, but it just kept coming; Henry's shocking execution of Scrope in 1405 should have destroyed his remaining legitimacy, but instead the action seems to have established his seriousness and quieted things down. Henry “perfected the art of falling and falling without ever quite hitting the ground” (277); as well as being Machiavellian, he seems to have enjoyed a great deal of Napoleonic luck.
Unlike previous biographies of Henry IV, Given-Wilson's deals with the years 1406–13 in some detail. These were also the years in which he king suffered a series of debilitating illnesses (punishment, some said, for his execution of Scrope), but his council, under Archbishop Arundel and then his own son Prince Henry, bought his regime a certain stability and solvency. These conditions allowed him to concentrate on long-term projects like the defense of Guyenne from French encroachment, negotiation of marriage alliances for his sons, or the attempted healing of the Great Schism or the even remoter possibility of going on crusade. It was also during this time that Henry's interests in such things as polyphonic music, books (Given-Wilson claims he is the real founder of the English royal library), and cannon manifested themselves. Although he never quite escaped the stench of being a usurper, he died in his bed and passed the crown on to his own son—a victory of sorts, even if the prince and he did not always get along.
Henry IV is informed by a wealth of scholarship and, especially for subjects like possessions, movement, or finances, is tied closely to record sources. It does not constitute a history of England in the early fifteenth century, but it does deal widely and perceptively with many aspects of governance during Henry's reign, such as court and household, Parliament, the church, Lollardy and anti-clericalism, espionage, economic policy, national identity, and (of course) warfare. Its style is compelling and its illustrations clear. It is an excellent work and a fitting addition to the English Monarchs series.
