The recent sexcentenary of the death of Richard II generated a flurry of scholarly works, some sympathetic to the last of the Plantagenet ruler, many more of them intent on setting the seal on a tradition of vilification that began within hours of the king's demise. Collectively, these works have made Richard the most studied of English medieval monarchs, and there is nary a single aspect of his life or reign that has not been subjected to exhaustive scrutiny, heated debate, and painstaking analysis. Undaunted by the cumulative wisdom of this plethora of learned opinion, Alastair Dunn claims here to have found compelling new evidence concerning the period of Richard II's tyranny and to offer fresh insight into the king's disgrace and downfall. These claims are overly ambitious, and little in this work is likely to change anyone's opinion about the events and consequences of the king's last years. Likewise, Dunn's argument that a close study of the entire period between 1389 and 1413 sheds important new light on crown-magnate relations in medieval England is not really accurate. Other scholars, notably Douglas Biggs, Gwilym Dodd, and Simon Walker, have recently emphasized the importance of understanding Richard's reign from both sides of the great divide of 1399.

That said, there is much in Dunn's book to interest scholars engaged in the study of late medieval political history. A meticulous examination of the numerous forfeitures and escheats that marked the years 1397–1408 demonstrates clearly the intricacies of a shifting balance of power between the crown and the higher nobility, as well as the ways in which Richard II, Henry IV, and several magnates families sought to capitalize on the “ebb and flow” of the unprecedented landed resources that came under royal control as a consequence of changes to the treason legislation of the period. One of the most fascinating parts of Dunn's book, in fact, is his review of the changing nature of the forfeiture laws between 1388 and 1408. Richard II's machinations permitted him to lay hands not merely on the lands that his magnate opponents held in fee simple but, from 1388, also on their enfeoffed estates. A decade later, he also secured control of the entailed lands of condemned traitors, giving him access to vast amounts of his enemies’ lands as well as a rich windfall in patronage prizes and, more significantly still, control over the lives of the forfeited men's widows, children, and kinfolk. The cash-strapped Henry IV would have been delighted to apply an equally broad interpretation of the treason laws to his enemies and their estates, but the precarious nature of his hold on the throne precluded resort to such draconian measures. Although confronted with a series of dangerous risings in the first decade of his rule, Henry remained acutely aware of his need to balance the potential benefits that might accrue to royal coffers through recourse to widespread forfeiture against a policy of conciliation with the opponents of the Lancastrian revolution.

Despite the title of this work and its reference to the period 1389–1413, Dunn's real interests lie in the last two years of Richard's reign. He frequently reminds his reader that in the years 1397–99, “the tenurial geography of England and Wales underwent the most dramatic changes since the later years of Edward II's reign” (152), and over half of his book is devoted to an examination of the families who both benefited and suffered during the tyranny. John Montagu, Thomas Despenser, and William Lescrope became the recipients of royal largesse on a truly national scale. Richard Fitzalan and Thomas Beauchamp, by contrast, both deeply despised by their king, lost everything. A close study of how the tenurial and administrative structures of the lordships of Warwick and Arundel weathered the transfers of ownership offers informative glimpses of the ways in which the period of tyranny affected people on the ground. But in the end, Dunn's conclusions only confirm what historians have long known. Richard II's cause was so hopelessly bankrupt by the summer of 1399 that it was doomed to fail, and no amount of forfeited land could purchase the king the support he so badly needed. Henry IV, for his part, found that despite the hatred that his predecessor had engendered, the Lancastrian hold on the throne was far from secure, and that it depended ultimately on his ability to come to terms with his enemies. The forfeitures that he ordered were selective and not rigidly applied. Although they accomplished their purpose in punishing the most grievous rebels and traitors among his magnates, they failed to resolve his money problems or to quiet opposition to his dynasty.