Louis VIII, “the Lion,” son of Philip Augustus and father to Saint Louis, ruled France for only three years (1223–26). Sandwiched between two of the great kings of medieval France, Louis VIII is usually known, not from studies dedicated to him, but as part of histories of his father or his son, or in histories of the Albigensian crusade, in which he played an important part. And yet, he was an undoubtedly talented figure, a strong military leader with the capacity for leadership, and, if he had not died at thirty-nine while returning from a campaign in the south, might have had a profound role in the shaping of the Capetian monarchy and French history.

Louis VIII is the hero of Catherine Hanley's Louis, a narrative history of, as the book's subtitle announces, an important but not very well-known event in early thirteenth-century French and English history that touched on all the major political and military events of the day: the French invasion of England after the signing of Magna Carta. In 1216, the barons’ increasing displeasure with King John led to an invitation to the young French prince to invade England and take the crown. Louis mustered forces and made it all the way to London. He received the fealty of some of the most noteworthy figures, including the king of Scotland. Initial efforts at military consolidation were, ironically, forestalled by John's death in October 1216. John's death changed the political calculation of the initial invitation, and a portion of political support shifted to John's son, the young Henry III. Louis—a pretender and usurper, now, rather than the righteous enemy of a tyrant—was then excommunicated. He continued the effort to conquer the island, mastering at one point almost two-thirds of royal territory, but he failed to be crowned and never gained legitimacy. In 1217 he returned to France to garner support and reinforcements, an effort taken up by his young wife, Blanche of Castille, rather than his father the king. But in the spring months of that year, when Louis was directing the war from London, his forces suffered two military defeats, one on land at Lincoln and one on sea at Sandwich. Terms, desired by Pope Honorius III, who wanted Louis for his crusading plans in the East, were then negotiated. Louis returned to Paris, having failed in his bid at gaining the English crown but not vanquished, and thus with his reputation basically intact.

Hanley's a narrative history is based overwhelmingly on narrative sources from both sides of the channel. She offers a sympathetic portrait of Louis VIII, and an appealing and easy narrative of the events of 1216–17 (along with framing chapters dealing with Louis’ childhood, and then the short years after the invasion). But it is not a book for the serious historian. The storytelling imperative manufactures unnecessary or undocumented tensions, as for instance, with Louis’ purported resentment that Philip Augustus elected not to co-crown him, or delayed his formal knighting (an interpretation that Hanley then herself refutes on page 228). And there is a fair amount of speculation: we should imagine Louis “with his fist clenched” (175); Blanche must have been “both pleased and dismayed” when Louis returned to France in 1217 (140). The sentence of excommunication “had weighed heavily on him for so many months” (177). Louis spent time in Paris “giving him at last some time in which to enjoy family life” (208). All reasonable, and I do not dispute their likelihood, but these are storytelling strategies rather than historical analyses. Additionally, because Louis VIII is, for all intents and purposes the hero of this book, Hanley goes to some length to soften criticism, for instance, attributing his military losses to the incompetence of his subordinates (175) and seeking to explain or justify acts of violence antipathetic to twenty-first century sensibilities (185–88). Hanley, for the most part, does not offer an argument per se, and her tone is more discursive than analytical. More important for scholars, there are no footnotes. In the introduction Hanley does include a discussion of the contemporary sources she used and a “note on sources” gives a five-page discussion of primary and secondary sources. But for the serious scholar the book offers little.

That is an observation, not a criticism, because the book was not written for a scholarly audience. It was written to recount a little-known but compelling medieval story to a contemporary audience. Hanley uses the events of 1216–17 as an architecture to discuss siege warfare, practices of kingship, marital strategies, papal and royal politics, and a host of other contextual issues. That is, Hanley, who has published both an academic monograph and historical murder mysteries, has sought to bring together the skills of the historian and the talents of the novelist and use this important moment in both French and English history as a window onto the period. Throughout, Hanley includes helpful and succinct discussions that help explain events (such as the distribution of political and military power in England, pp. 66–67, or the nature of siege warfare, pp. 109–11), along with concise explanations of complicated events. The French invasion of 1216–17 is certainly an episode that deserves more attention from historians of both sides of the channel, and with this book Hanley has made this history widely available to an English-speaking audience.